


24-Hour Life Tickets

by CosmicCrossing



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Also Jeremy is such a concerned Mom, And lots of crying too, Angst, Cuddling, Cute boys hugging and holding hands, Everyone else is there too but more in the background, Fluff, Heere I am with more Angst, It's very very sad but it has a happy ending I PROMISE, Jeremy (unintentionally?) flirts, Jeremy is oblivious, Life Ticket AU, M/M, Michael pines HARD, Michael screeches on the inside while he does so and tries not to explode from embarrassment, Michael struggles with his feelings, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2018-11-08 19:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11088588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicCrossing/pseuds/CosmicCrossing
Summary: Michael hands over a ticket in exchange for living for another day.What he's come to realize, though, is that there aren't many tickets left.But why is it, why is it that even when this is the last time, I still can't bring myself to tell you that I love you? I guess it won't be enough, no matter how many more days or years I have. Even when I know...I won't even have tomorrow.





	1. Countdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow Heere I am back at it again with the angtsy AUs--//shot  
> I'm surprised you guys didn't show up at my house with pitchforks and torches after I Took the Stars from My Eyes;;
> 
> Anyway wow!! You guys are so amazing, I got so many wonderful and awesome comments and kudos on that fic, so here I am with more! It's my gift to you! :D This AU is definitely one of my favorites, and it's honestly been so much fun to write.  
> Originally it was supposed to be a oneshot, but I soon came to realize that it was waaaaay too long to be only one chapter, so I've gone ahead and split it up. I wanted to wait until I finished writing it to post it all, but honestly I got super excited about it and wanted to share it earlier, so here we are!  
> I've already finished writing the end, and some middle parts, so it's actually almost finished. The next chapter will be up tomorrow, if all goes well. So you won't have to wait long at all c:
> 
> Anyway, all the basic info about the AU is explained in the story itself. But, if you'd like to see its inspiration, it's actually based off of a song by the same name, which can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JSjIxAdD3-0 (Just warning you, it's a Vocaloid song so it's all in Japanese lol. But there's English subs, so at least there's that ^^)  
> I'd just like to say right now that I do NOT claim ownership over the song or the whole concept of 24-hour life tickets! I was just inspired by the song and the idea, and wanted to write something about it. Yup! All of the rights go to Shitoo for writing the song and making the PV! (But, well, the AU is mine. Lol)
> 
> Alright I think that's all I have for now! If you got any questions, comments, concerns, etc. comment below or hop on over to my tumblr, shima-draws! I've also got a tag over there for this AU, so go check it out here: http://shima-draws.tumblr.com/tagged/life+ticket+au
> 
> Okay! I hope you enjoy, roll the chappy!

Michael stands on the precipice of tomorrow.  
  
It's a familiar scene, one he's come to grow accustomed to. All around him is a vast white space, stretching on for miles and miles. There is nothing here except for a desk, and there sits a faceless nobody who files their nails with a sort of indifference. For some reason, they remind him a lot of Jeremy, his best friend and other half.  
  
Sometimes he wonders if this is what it looks like to be on death's doorstep. He won't truly know until a little while longer, he supposes.  
  
An object flutters down from the sky, landing in his open palm. It's a ticket, the edges crisp and clean, flattened to perfection. Across it reads a timestamp, the number "24". The hours in one day.  
  
It's here, in this bizarre neverworld, that he steps up to the counter and hands over his pass for the day, watching as the desk clerk punches a hole in it and sends him on his way. At first he thought his arrival here was some strange dream, perhaps an after effect of smoking too much. But no, even when he's sober he ends up here. Maybe it truly is a figment of his imagination, born from his subconscious and manifests as dreams—but even when he'd tried to stay up all night and avoid it, he found himself standing on the blank canvas of this world right before dawn came, unable to escape his fate.  
  
It happens every day, like clockwork. Hand over a ticket and start the morning. Or afternoon, if he decides to sleep in later. That doesn't happen as often now, seeing as he holds the payment for his life in his hands, and each day the amount of tickets decreases, counting down to his doom. So he'd much rather spend the time he'd be sleeping to do other things, trying to live his life to the fullest and make every second count.  
  
The first time he'd showed up here, there were hundreds of tickets, all scattered across his feet. Hundreds of days to laugh and love and just be _Michael_ —go to school, play video games, visit the arcade, catch a movie, be with Jeremy. His favorite person. But now he can't even see any tickets around like he used to. And that can only mean one thing.  
  
"So," the clerk drawls, tilting their head to the side. "You're running out, huh?"  
  
Michael nods and flashes his ticket at them. They snatch it out of his grasp and punch a hole through it, humming softly.  
  
"You know what's going to happen when you hit zero, don't you?"  
  
The teen sighs deeply and makes a quiet noise of acknowledgment. He's very well aware of what awaits him when his tickets run out. No more tickets means no more days to live. So...game over. There's no extra lives in the real world.  
  
"Do you know?" Michael speaks up, nervous. Even though he's seen this person every day for the past two years, he's still not comfortable around them. They're working the death counter, so to speak. That would freak anybody out.  
  
"Do you know...how many I have left?"  
  
He's afraid to ask. Truthfully he doesn't want to know, but it would be better to be prepared than to suddenly give up his last ticket and kick the bucket without warning. Lately he's had the feeling that his time is running out, and quickly. The tickets take longer and longer to appear, finally leading to the day when there's none left.  
  
For once, the clerk manages to look somewhat pensive, and maybe a little saddened as well.  
  
"Normally I'm not supposed to tell you," they murmur, pondering. Finally they give in, exhaling softly. "But alright. You're a good kid; you deserve to know."  
  
And then they lean over and whisper the number into Michael's ear, whose stomach immediately drops with dread. But, of course...that makes sense. He swallows down a panic attack rising up his throat and nods his head weakly.  
  
He was correct in his assumptions that his time left in this world is short. He'll just have to make the most of the little hours he has left and spend them all with Jeremy. There's nothing else he'd rather do, anyway.  
  
He's just glad he's come to terms with everything already, and although it won't be long until he fades from existence, he doesn't have any regrets.  
  
...Well.  
  
Maybe he does.  
  
But if all goes well, he'll be able to confess his feelings to Jeremy before it all comes to an end. And then he truly will pass on without any regrets.  
  
Not counting today's, the amount of tickets he has is...  
  
"Go on, now. Don't waste any more time standing here. Go out with a bang."  
  
Michael nods determinedly and closes his eyes, feeling himself slide into darkness. He's going to wake up soon, and when he does he'll make his plans.  
  
The clock hands move, starting their countdown. The clerk's words ring in his ears.  
  
_One._

* * *

He awakes to the sound of rain pattering against the windowpane.  
  
There are tears running down his cheeks and dampening his night shirt. Why he's crying, he isn't sure. Maybe it just fully hit him that he only has one day left. Tomorrow will be his last day on earth, and then he'll cease to exist.  
  
He used to think death was a frightening thing, that is, until he started the routine of handing over his 24-hour life tickets every day. It's been two years since he began, and by now he's so used to seeing that white backdrop and the desk clerk lazily going about their day that the concept doesn't bother him anymore.  
  
He'd accepted that he was going to die a long time ago. The thing about it that upsets him isn't the fact that he's leaving this world far too early—it's that he's leaving his best friend behind to face the rest of his life on his own.  
  
What will Jeremy say, what will he do when Michael dies tomorrow? Will he shed tears, or will he go blank-faced and hollow-eyed with shock? Will he mourn or will he pretend that it's all a lie, that Michael has just gone away somewhere and won't come back for a very long time...?  
  
Michael has known Jeremy basically all his life, and yet even he can't predict how his closest companion will react to his death. If there's one thing that scares him, it's that Jeremy will be so wrought with grief and sadness that he might try to follow after. All they have is each other—they're outcasts at school, their parents are too busy or too stuck in the past to be involved in their lives, and any other family is too far away. They've been best friends since kindergarten, soulmates destined to grow up and live their lives by each other's side. They've never needed anybody else. There's always a wish deep down to become more popular, to have their parents actually care. But that's never really worked out, which is fine.  
  
Michael can't even fathom how it's going to feel when Jeremy witnesses his final breath tomorrow. If their roles were reversed, he knows he'd be absolutely devastated. And he probably would follow after Jeremy then, into the realm of the dead. He isn't strong enough to keep living in a world without Jeremy Heere—he doesn't even want to imagine a world where Jeremy doesn't exist.  
  
But, unlike Michael, Jeremy is strong. Jeremy is stronger than Michael will ever be. He just hopes Jeremy is strong enough to keep going, keep moving forward after he's gone. One death is more than enough.  
  
With a sigh he dries his face with a sleeve and pulls himself out of bed. There isn't any time to mope, he only has today and tomorrow to make the most out of his life. He can't help but wonder if it's had any meaning to anyone else, if he was able to change the world in his own way. He hopes so.  
  
From its position plugged into the charger, his phone lets out a soft buzz, alerting him to a message from the only person who would ever send him one. He can't withhold the smile that breaks out on his face when he opens the lock screen to see his background, a picture of him and Jeremy standing side by side at a game convention a couple towns over. Is it strange that every time he even thinks about Jeremy his heart flutters like a hummingbird? A warm glow envelops him from head to toe and he grins, happiness covering him like a blanket. He's so very much in love.  
  
It's too bad that he can only spend one more day with Jeremy.  
  
Michael shakes his head back and forth, trying to dismiss those morbid thoughts. He's going to enjoy these last days, no matter what. Now isn't the time for depression to be kicking in.  
  
His eyes flicker down to the message on his screen. It reads,  
  
Jeremy: Just got to school. Thank god I got here before the rain started  
  
Jeremy: Make sure you get here on time, dork! I won't make excuses for you again lmao  
  
The teen chuckles and sends a response.  
  
Me: Come on J you know I gotta have my daily fix!!  
  
He waits a moment. Then,  
  
Jeremy: Idk how you have the time to stop by 7 Eleven every day for a slushy. No wait jk you're usually almost always late to school bc of that  
  
Me: You know I can't survive the day without that morning sugar rush :3c  
  
Jeremy: Yeah, yeah. Get your ass over here before class starts. Also get me some of those sour chewy SweetTarts while you're at it  
  
Michael gasps, offended. His fingers fly across the screen, tapping out a quick reply.  
  
Me: Omg Jer they're called Shockers get it right  
  
Jeremy: Before they became cool?  
  
Me: No they WERE cool. Then they changed the brand name to shit  
  
Jeremy: Alright smartass. Now seriously hurry up!!  
  
Michael laughs and finally rises, because if he doesn't start moving now he really will be late.  
  
His smile fades as he picks out his clothes for the day. How many more times will he be able to goof around with Jeremy like this? How many more times will he be able to send him furry memes over text or sit in his basement and play video games together...? He knows he shouldn't think about these things, but for some reason he can't stop himself from wandering back to the inevitable.  
  
He gets ready in a sort of daze, unable to help the thoughts running through his brain like _This is one of the last times I'll be able to brush my teeth._ It's really weird when he ponders over it too much, so he shakes himself off, throws on his favorite hoodie and heads out the front door, keys in hand.  
  
The drive to school is short. Of course he makes a pit stop at 7 Eleven to pick up the promised Shockers and a large cherry slushy for himself. He savors the flavor, the burn as it goes down, and knows that this is one of the things he's going to miss when he's gone.  
  
He never remembers being this sentimental. But, he supposes it's okay, just this once.  
  
When he steps out of the car he prepares to make a mad dash into the building, but abruptly stops. The sky is crying heavily down onto the earth below, covering everything in sight with a thin layer of water.  
  
This is probably the last time he'll get to see the rain.  
  
He groans under his breath, already regretting what he's going to do, and knowing for a fact that Jeremy is going to chew him out, but it's worth it.  
  
Michael shoves Jeremy's candy into the pocket of his jeans for safekeeping before fully stepping out into the rain, hood down and all. The rain splashes against his cheeks and forehead, coating his eyelashes in water droplets. It feels very nice against his skin, and a little cold, but the feeling is so extremely refreshing that he can't help but grin.  
  
He stands there for a while, letting it sink in, enough that his clothing becomes soaked and sticks to his skin. There's a certain scent to the rain that is so unique, something he can't put his finger on. But it's fascinating. He studies the way the lights from the building bounces off the pavement, creating a shiny wet canvas.  
  
He is jolted back to the present when a couple of teenagers shriek and run towards the building, trying hard not to get rained on. And here he is, standing in the midst of the storm without a care in the world.  
  
A loud sneeze interrupts any further thoughts he has and he realizes it's probably best that he goes inside now. Class is about to start and Jeremy is still waiting for him, so he breaks out into a run, sliding along the road until he reaches the door.  
  
He pulls it open and immediately shakes himself wildly, water flying off of him in all directions. Any people standing by yelp and glare at him before walking away. He represses a shudder; now that he's out of the rain he's much more cold and damp. He needs to find Jeremy.  
  
Before he can even start to look his prayers are answered when the boy of his dreams comes trotting around the corner, eyes lighting up when he spots him. Immediately Jeremy can tell something's off for his eyebrows draw together and his lips purse cutely.  
  
"Michael?"  
  
"Hey, J," he greets, beaming. He pulls the candy out of his pocket and hands it over. Jeremy takes it from him and hurriedly tosses it into his backpack before circling him, his entire body radiating concern.  
  
"Jesus, you're soaked! What did you do, stand out in the rain for ten minutes?" Jeremy frets, reaching up to run slender fingers through his hair and dislodge any remaining raindrops. He has no idea how accurate that question was.  
  
Michael hums in satisfaction and leans into his touch, practically purring. That feels so nice...  
  
"That's _gay_!" A voice calls out from down the hall. The two of them turn to see two of the more privileged children, Rich and Jake, make very inappropriate gestures at them.  
  
Usually they find it in themselves to ignore the rowdy teens. But today, Jeremy makes a sour face and pierces them with a glare, flipping them off with a muttered "Fuck you."  
  
The boys gasp and holler dramatically, unable to believe that local dork Jeremy Heere just gave them the finger. Michael regards him with faint surprise. This isn't the first time those two have pushed him farther than necessary, but it's very unlike him to actually rise to the bait.  
  
"Morons," Jeremy mumbles, shaking his head angrily. He quickly refocuses his attention on Michael.  
  
"M, you need to take that hoodie off, it's completely drenched," he demands, quickly swiping his slushy away. "I can't believe you did something so...ugh! You know you can't push yourself like this, what if you catch a cold? Also, did you take your pills this morning?"  
  
Michael can't help but smile fondly at the way his friend is fawning over him like a mother hen.  
  
"I'm fine, Jer. And yeah, I did. Don't worry so much," he soothes. Although that cold wetness is starting to feel less refreshing and more annoying now...  
  
Jeremy sighs, rubbing a palm against the back of his neck. "I know, I know, it's just," he huffs, biting his lip. "You just got out of the hospital again like, three weeks ago. I don't want you going back anytime soon, especially not because of some stupid cold."  
  
The shorter teen frowns and glances away, silent. Jeremy has a valid point, but what he's unaware of is that it doesn't even matter what kinds of torture Michael puts his body through, anyway.  
  
"Okay, bathroom," Jeremy says, grabbing onto his wrist and pulling him in the direction of the boy's restroom. "Then class. If we don't hurry we'll be late, so come on."  
  
They become quite the center of attention as they travel down the hallway. Teenagers of all shapes and sizes look at them strangely. This is probably because Michael is leaving a trail of water behind him, making the floors shine enough to see one's reflection. He hopes there aren't any teachers around to catch him dripping all over the floor.  
  
They pass the group of popular girls, Chloe, Brooke and Jenna, who point fingers and whisper and giggle under their breath. Normally Jeremy would try to act cool in front of them, but today he completely disregards their curly hair and fruity perfume, only focused on getting Michael dry. The thought warms him to his core, so much that he doesn't feel cold anymore.  
  
Everything is abruptly cut short when they hang a left and bump into—  
  
"Christine!" Jeremy squeaks, his posture shooting straight up. Michael immediately feels his mood drop.  
  
The short Asian girl smiles at them curiously.  
  
"Hi. Oh...you're soaking wet," she observes, tilting her head at Michael. "What happened? Get caught in the rain?"  
  
Shocked at being directly addressed by Jeremy's target of affection, and also one of the more adored girls in the student body, Michael stutters out a reply that has something to do with pina coladas.  
  
Amazingly enough, both Christine and Jeremy laugh at that. Huh.  
  
"Okay, nice," Christine nods. "Well, I'd better go. Good luck getting dry!"  
  
And then she's gone, just like that.  
  
Jeremy looks positively starstruck. Of course.  
  
"Did you _see_ that? She laughed at your joke!" He whispers excitedly. Michael can't help but roll his eyes.  
  
"Yeah? So did you."  
  
"But I always laugh at your jokes! This is different!" The brunette points out, huffing.  
  
Honestly, Michael could care less what Christine thinks. He's just happy he got to see Jeremy laugh. It's always nice when Jeremy laughs.  
  
"Jer," he nudges the boy with his hip, trying to snap him out of his Christine-induced daydream, "I'm still soaked through, remember?"  
  
Jeremy blinks a couple times before he seems to refocus. "Oh, right! Let's go."  
  
Soon enough they arrive in the bathroom. Luckily since class is mere minutes away from starting, everyone has evacuated to make it on time. Jeremy pulls Michael over to the hand dryer and sets to pulling his clothes off—well, the top layers, anyway. Michael can't help but flush a little as Jeremy promptly removes his shirt, leaving him in nothing but a thin tank top and his jeans. Even his shoes and socks are removed in favor of having them get the dryer treatment. Luckily his hoodie had absorbed most of the water before it got to the clothing underneath, so his t-shirt is already close to being dry enough to wear. Michael hops up on the bathroom counter, his legs dangling over the edge.  
  
"Here," Jeremy comes over with a handful of paper towels and starts rubbing his hair down, being extra gentle. Michael grins and closes his eyes, wishing this moment could last longer...  
  
"Shit, we're definitely gonna be late," the taller teen sighs, dabbing at a raindrop on Michael's cheek. "How do you feel about using the old "breather" excuse?"  
  
Michael opens his eyes to see Jeremy face to face with him and way, _way_ too close. He squeaks inaudibly and attempts to lean back a little. If he doesn't he's sure he'll give in to his impulse and kiss the living daylights out of his best friend in the middle of the bathroom.  
  
"Ah, uh," he stutters. "Yeah? That's fine, I mean, I don't really care," he clarifies. This wouldn't be the first time he's used his illness as an excuse. He's lucky Jeremy is so persuasive in making the teachers believe they were late due to Michael having some sort of attack.  
  
He's not really sure if he should be offended that they're exploiting his disease. Honestly doing that has done them more good than harm, so he doesn't really mind. He just hopes nobody finds out that the times when he _said_ he was having a serious attack weren't actually true.  
  
"O—kay," Jeremy taps his foot. "Your shoes and socks are still a little damp, and your hoodie is totally wet. So I guess you'll have to go without wearing it for now. And don't even think about putting it back on," he says sternly, freezing Michael in place, who is slowly reaching towards the red lump of fabric.  
  
"But Jeremyyy," Michael whines. It's useless to try and fight, Jeremy almost always wins their arguments because Michael is a lovesick fool who can't ever say no. "...I like my hoodie," he continues meekly.  
  
"Well, you should have thought about that before you decided to take a morning stroll in a rainstorm," the brunette says smoothly, drying off Michael's shoes with a paper towel.  
  
It's almost terrifying how well Jeremy knows him. He didn't even have to ask; he automatically knew Michael hadn't been out in the rain on accident.  
  
Silence falls between them for a while, but it's not uncomfortable or awkward. The only sound that echoes through the bathroom is the noise of the air dryer, which Jeremy has pressed repeatedly to keep it going in an attempt to get Michael's hoodie less damp.  
  
Suddenly the bell rings, notifying them that their attempt to make it to class on time has failed. Jeremy doesn't even blink, having already accepted that he'd probably get into trouble, and finishes wiping the white shoes before handing them back to the teen sitting on the sink.  
  
Michael thanks him sincerely before putting his socks and shoes back on, sticking his tongue out at the gross, squishy feeling he receives. They aren't completely dry but he'll take what he gets.  
  
When he looks up, he is taken aback to see Jeremy chewing his lip, and alarms go off in his head. Jeremy only does that when he's about to cry.  
  
Without warning the taller boy surges forward and pulls him into an embrace, chest pressed to Michael's. Michael releases a weird, strangled noise that probably resembles a whimper and tries not to spontaneously combust. It isn't the first time that Jeremy has hugged him like this, but he doubts he'll ever get used to it. He can feel the heat in his cheeks, making him dizzy and lightheaded.  
  
Jeremy's really warm. To Michael, who is still shivering from the after effects of his previous escapade in the storm, Jeremy feels like a heater. It's actually...really nice.  
  
"Jer?" He squeaks, cursing inwardly at the way his voice cracks.  
  
"If you end up in the hospital again because of this, I'm gonna kill you," he sniffs, nosing Michael's collarbone.  
  
The shorter teen's breath hitches. He exhales quietly and closes his eyes, rubbing circles on his friend's back. A hot sense of shame washes over him. There's just so much Jeremy doesn't _know_...he can't help but feel guilty for not telling him yet, and also for standing out in the rain like an idiot. It was a nice feeling, one that he'll remember forever, but still.  
  
"Sorry," he finally whispers, leaning against Jeremy fully.  
  
He's really glad that nobody has come in to interrupt this moment.  
  
Jeremy breathes deeply and finally pulls away. Michael politely looks in the other direction while he wipes his eyes.  
  
"Alright, enough of that." His player two states, going to pick up his backpack. "Are you ready to go? Don't forget to put your shirt back on."  
  
Michael nods and throws the t-shirt back over his head. It has a lame video game pun on it. He honestly didn't even think about it when he put it on this morning, believing he'd be wearing his hoodie all day. Ah, well.  
  
He jumps off the counter, gathering his wet backpack and hoodie, and follows Jeremy to the door. Before he can make it, though, Michael grabs his wrist. His fingers slide down until they slowly, hesitantly interlock with Jeremy's own.  
  
His best friend looks back at him inquisitively. "Hmm?"  
  
"Thank you," Michael murmurs, giving him a shy smile. Right away Jeremy's face lights up like the morning sun and he smiles back, radiant. It's absolutely dazzling.  
  
"Anything for you, M. Now let's go."  
  
Michael nods and with that, the two of them exit the bathroom and prepare to face another day of teenage hell.  
  
And the best part of it is that Jeremy doesn't let go of his hand, not once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's chapter one :3c  
> The next one should be up by tomorrow, Monday at the latest!
> 
> As always, a couple things:
> 
> *I don't know if any of you have ever seen Sour Chewy SweetTarts in stores, but they did actually used to be called Shockers back in the day. (Wow, I feel old.) When I was a kid I used to get them at 7 Eleven all the time, so that whole bit was sort of a personal thing I decided to add in ^^ I was upset when they changed the brand name, and the packaging (at least they weren't discontinued)...it used to be so much cooler when they were called Shockers lol, and I feel that Michael would also share my sentiments on the matter;; Go look 'em up, they're pretty neat. Also they're one of my favorite candies. I like sour things~
> 
> *I mention Michael's illness a couple times, but never really specify what it is. I'm leaving that up to interpretation! Just know that it's fatal, and that's the reason why Michael started ending up in that neverworld where he turns in his tickets. Not all people are able to visit that world, usually it's only granted access to those who are sick and deserve to know how much time they have left to live. And for such a pure boy like Michael, he was granted access right around the time his illness started to progress and get worse. So that's why Jeremy mentions the hospital a couple times. Michael has been there much too often. Also it's strictly forbidden to say explicitly how many days remain in one's life, but somebody broke the rule for our favorite kid. Going off of that...
> 
> *The desk clerk is supposed to be Michael's squip. I don't really remember all the things Joe Tracz has said about the matter, so I left their appearance and their gender pretty ambiguous;; but I do know that squips take the appearance of the person you'll most likely listen to, so I made that "kinda similar to Jeremy" comment since I believe that's who Michael would most likely listen to.
> 
> *Also, if it wasn't obvious already, this is a "No Squip" sort of AU. So, like, those events never happened, so Jeremy and Michael aren't close friends with Rich, Christine, Jake and the rest...yet! (Hint hint nudge nudge)
> 
> And...I think that's all I have for now :0 Again if you guys have questions, ask! I'd be more than happy to answer.
> 
> Phew. That's all! Until next chapter, then! Hope you enjoyed! //rolls out on Heelys


	2. Here in This Teenage Battle Zone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I wasn't gonna be able to finish this one today since I was gone for half the afternoon but!! I managed it, haha!
> 
> Also THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH for your wonderful and amazing comments, wow?? I'd go through and answer them all individually but it would just be me repeating myself over and over by screaming thank you so. I'll just shout it here for everyone: THANK!!!
> 
> I actually don't have much more to say for now, everything regarding the chapter itself is at the end so. (Please make sure to read that actually, at least the last couple paragraphs. If you wanna participate more in this story. //winks)
> 
> Okay, Heere we go! ~~I really gotta stop it with these puns~~ I hope you enjoy! Roll the chappy!

When they get to class, they're immediately assaulted with twenty-five pairs of eyes and a disapproving look from the teacher. Michael subtly releases Jeremy's hand before anyone else can see. The other boy taps his wrist soothingly as the female instructor walks over to them.

"Mr. Heere, Mr. Mell, thank you for joining us," she says, folding her arms. "So, what's your excuse for showing up late?"

"Michael had an attack."

Jeremy doesn't even sugarcoat his words. His eyes narrow challengingly at the teacher, daring her to punish them now.

Immediately her expression changes to one of pity and worry.

"Did you take him to the nurse?"

Michael shakes his head no. He really hopes she doesn't call them out on their bluff.

"He didn't want to go. Said he wanted to come right here after he calmed down," Jeremy continues, quieter. The rest of the class watches their exchange with interested eyes.

She nods and sighs. "Well, alright. But next time you really should go to the nurse. It could have been serious." She looks over at Michael and gives him a wry smile. "We don't want you going to the hospital again, do we?"

Michael winces at that, recalling several times over the past couple years he's had to be carted off by an ambulance in the middle of the school day. Those experiences were not fun.

"I'll let it go this time, boys. And Jeremy, I know you're his friend but it isn't your responsibility to take care of him. Next time just send him to the nurse and come straight to class, got it? Now take your seats."

Without a word they make their way to the back of the classroom, sliding into their chairs. Michael swallows nervously at the fierce look sparking in Jeremy's eyes. He looks absolutely furious. Probably because of the "responsibility" comment.

They share the Shockers during the morning lecture, Jeremy passing a handful to him under the desk. Simultaneously their faces scrunch up at the sourness, rolling around the tangy flavors in their mouths. Michael hands back the green apple ones, grinning at Jeremy who scoffs playfully at him (they'd gotten into a spat about the flavor before, with Michael proclaiming it was disgusting and that cherry was the dominant flavor, and Jeremy protesting avidly to that). They send silly texts out of sight and spam each other with memes, trying hard not to laugh and make a scene. All in all it's a pretty good morning, and when the bell rings once again they stand and leave the room.

When lunch rolls around they pick a table in the corner of the cafeteria, far away from the popular kids who like to torment them. Michael has leftover sushi from the day before, and Jeremy has a peanut butter jelly sandwich with apple slices. Michael's teased him before about his kindergarten lunch, and usually receives a smack on the arm in return.

As they eat in silence Michael's mind wanders to tomorrow, and what he plans to do. It's a school day and he honestly doesn't want to spend eight hours of his final day sitting in a classroom. The best plan of action would be to skip school and cram in as much fun time as possible, combined with all of his favorite things to do and to eat, all with his best friend. But will Jeremy agree? He glances up at him worriedly. They don't ditch class very often, because believe it or not Jeremy is a straight A student despite his hatred for school. Missing a day damages his attendance.

"Michael? You alright? You're spacing out."

"Ah," he jumps, a bit startled. He chews the inside of his cheek thoughtfully for a moment before working up the courage to ask.

"Hey, Jer?"

Jeremy glances over, ocean eyes shaking him to his core, umber locks falling across his forehead. It should be illegal to be that beautiful. "Mhmm?"

"Uhh..." It takes Michael a moment to actually formulate a response, so close to drowning in the blue of Jeremy's eyes. "Er, I was wondering...how—how open would you be to skipping school tomorrow and just...hanging out all day? We could pull an all-nighter and try to finish Apocalypse of the Damned," he adds on lamely as an afterthought. Wow. That could have gone worse, he supposes.

Jeremy raises an eyebrow at him, curious. "Michael Mell, wanting to ditch class? That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen, but I'm fine with it," he grins. "Why?"

Michael can't help but smile widely, his heart jumping for joy. He said yes! Though that's not too surprising, actually, seeing as they do everything together. Jeremy would be miserable at school tomorrow without him if only he ditched, anyway. The brunette waits expectantly and Michael stammers for a response. Right, he needs a reason. Why does he need a reason?

"'Cause, I wanna spend time with my _favowite pewson_ ," he sings, laughing when Jeremy makes a face.

"No, but seriously!"

Michael avoids his searching gaze, biting his tongue. He's not going to say it. Not yet. Because if he does, Jeremy will be so caught up in the fact that he's going to die that he won't be able to truly enjoy himself on Michael's last day. And he doesn't want that. 

"Mmm..." He hums softly. "It's a secret."

"A secret?" The brunette appears to be shocked. "But we never keep secrets from each other, you know that."

Michael waves his hand dismissively. "It's nothing that important. I promise I'll tell you about it later. But I can't right now."

Jeremy studies him quietly for a moment, and then, to Michael's relief, he nods in agreement.

"Okay. But you have to swear you'll tell me."

The shorter boy gives him a thumbs-up. "I absolutely swear I will give you all the sweet deets," he says in a high-pitched voice, trying to imitate someone they both know very well. It's hard not to ignore that voice when it's gossiping halfway across the lunchroom about how Madeline slept with Jake.

Jeremy almost chokes on his soda at that, gulping down a fit of laughter.

"Oh my god," he breathes.

They poke fun at each other for the rest of the lunch hour and steal each other's food, as they always do. To everyone else around them they're lost in their own little world, which only consists of each other. Michael and Jeremy, Jeremy and Michael. Michael honestly wouldn't have it any other way.

The rest of the school day seems to fly by. Which is unfortunate; it's his last day here and he sort of wishes he could have enjoyed it more. He definitely won't miss the history lessons and the assholes throwing paper balls at him during class, but he likes drawing stupid comics and passing them back and forth between Jeremy and himself, and eating lunch with Jeremy, and sitting next to Jeremy in class close enough that their legs can touch and...

Oh, screw it. He hates school. The only reason he tolerates it is because his player two is with him, every step of the way. 

Sadly enough Jeremy leaves him for drama practice when it's all over, promising he'll head to his house once it finishes. It started out as a desperate attempt to get closer to Christine, but after a while Jeremy started to genuinely enjoy theater. Michael hasn't let him live that down yet.

A part of him wanted to beg Jeremy to spend more time with him instead of ditching him for practice, but he knows he can't be that selfish. He's already going to have the brunette all to himself tomorrow, so he can afford an hour or two without him.

When he arrives home he's greeted with the familiar sound of nothing, meaning his parents aren't home. Oh, well. That's fine.

Of course he's going to miss them when he passes, they're his parents, after all. But they're never around, never there when he really needs them. He's come to depend on Jeremy and his dad for support, even though the older Heere isn't always present either. It's better than what he can say about his parents, who are barely even home.

He throws his hoodie in the dryer to sap out any remaining moisture and heads down to the basement to change out of the rest of his clothing. Once he's comfortable and warm, he settles onto the floor and plucks a few strings on his guitar.

It had been a birthday gift from Jeremy a couple of years ago, who'd saved up his allowance for it. To this day it's the best birthday present he's ever received. Michael is extremely shy when it comes to playing in front of others, only having played for Jeremy a limited number of times before—but by himself it's different.

He starts to hum quietly, tapping out a beat. He's written a couple of songs before, the majority of them ballads about his feelings for Jeremy.

God, what is he going to tell him tomorrow? _How_ is he going to tell him? Being blunt definitely isn't his style, so maybe he can sing him this song he's been working on for a while...or maybe not. He doesn't have any idea how he's going to come out with his feelings.

" _Google Search, "how to write a love song"._  
_Google Search, "unrequited love"._  
_It's all the same  
Repeating over the same damn answers on every page_ ," he starts, strumming his guitar. It's a geeky but hooking intro, at least in his opinion.

He actually had done research on this—definitely a source of embarrassment for him, but oh well. Not that the results did him any good. He still hasn't been able to tell Jeremy he loves him, even though his time is running out.

" _They say a love song has to come from the heart._  
_Well alright then, I guess I'll give it a shot!_  
_These feelings I have are deeper than I can say...  
I'm not sure how I can properly convey._

_How do I express my love in words?  
_ _I guess that something like this works..._ " He picks up the pace, getting ready for the chorus. It's his favorite part of the song.

" _Every time I see you, my heart it flutters_  
_And I never ever wanna be with another._  
_It's only you, it's always you_  
_Until the end..._  
_And every time I'm with you my heart hums out a song._  
_You honestly have no idea how long it's been...  
This is a love song, let's be more than friends!_ "

He plays a few more chords before stopping with a sigh. Yeah, like singing this will go over well. Jeremy will probably laugh at him and call him crazy.

Flopping back onto the floor, Michael purses his lips. What to do until his other half gets here...

He closes his eyes and listens to the sound of the rain. It's been going on and off all day, refusing to completely let up. He's satisfied with that, though. He's always liked the rain, how it echoes outside and softly patters on the roof. When it clears up and the sun comes out everything sparkles with dew, a truly poetic sight.

He briefly wonders if Jeremy is walking over or if he caught a ride with somebody else. The school is only ten minutes away from his house, after all.

Before he can snag his phone and send him a text asking if he needs an escort back over, the basement door opens. Jeremy trots down the stairs, shaking water out of his hair. Michael rolls over onto his stomach and frowns. Did he end up having to walk in the rain after all?

"Now who's the one taking a stroll during a rainstorm?" He teases, laughing when Jeremy chucks his backpack at him.

"Shut up. It wasn't even raining that hard, anyway. Unlike you, I know the proper times to be gallivanting outside!" The pale boy smirks, taking a seat next to him.

"'Gallivanting'? What kind of stuff are they making you say in rehearsal?"

Jeremy looks somewhat surprised to be asked that, and then he chuckles awkwardly.

"Uh, Shakespeare."

"Oh, Romeo! Why dost thou arrive so late? I hath been waiting here for far too long, unable to progress in Apocalypse of le Damned without thou!" Michael cries dramatically, laying a palm across his forehead as he pretends to weep.

For a moment it seems like Jeremy will start throwing things at him again, but a playful look sparks in his eyes. Oh, so he's going to play along after all.

"I art truly sorry, my lovely Juliet," he rumbles lowly, grabbing one of Michael's hands to place the lightest of butterfly kisses to his skin.

Well, then.

Michael's brain might have just completely stopped functioning all together, for he sputters uselessly. Jeremy seems oblivious to the way his heart is pounding a mile a minute, and continues his spiel.

"But here I hath come, your knight in shining armor, ready to kill zombies and protect my one and only beloved!"

Michael has absolutely no idea how he manages to recover in time to give a proper response. He's very surprised he hasn't died sooner due to all of the blood rushing to his face.

"Alright then, good sir, let us begin! And do not underestimate a lady such as myself! I am more than capable of decapitating—uh. Jer?"

Jeremy blinks at him slowly before snapping back to attention.

"Hm? What?"

Michael smiles worriedly. He waves a hand in front of his friend's face.

"You alive in there? You sorta zoned out."

The other teen shakes his head dismissively, shaking off whatever seems to have been bothering him. "Mm. It's nothing." And he shifts, stretching his arms behind his head languidly. "So, what's the plan? Are we actually gonna play Apocalypse of the Damned?"

"If you wanna," Michael shrugs, crawling forward to the TV to grab the controllers.

"So. How was rehearsal?" He asks, starting to plug everything in.

Jeremy leans back on his hands and tilts his head. "Okay, I guess. We just ran over lines today." And then his expression changes to one of adoration, and Michael already knows before he opens his mouth what he's going to say next.

"Christine was amazing, as usual. Everyone was so captivated while she was performing! She's really, really good."

"So I've heard," Michael chuckles before scooting back and handing Jeremy his controller.

"You should come by after school someday," Jeremy continues, smiling at him. God, he loves it when Jeremy smiles. It's so much better than when he frowns. Although that's alluring in its own way too. "We have these fun warmups where we do silly exercises and basically goof off. I think you'd like it. I don't think Mr. Reyes would be opposed to having an extra person there. The more the merrier, right?"

Michael considers the question for a moment before his smile fades. He can't...he definitely can't. But his friend has such a hopeful look on his face, and it would be the worst thing on earth to destroy that, so he gives in. Just as he always does, just as he always will.

"Sure, Jer. That doesn't sound too bad."

Like a beacon, Jeremy's face brightens and his smile is completely brilliant. Michael resists the urge to scoop him up and cuddle him. He's just so...so...cute, dammit!

"Really?!" He says excitedly. "Sweet! Rehearsal would be much more fun if you were there, M. I could actually tolerate Rich and Jake more. And stop acting like such a klutz around the girls," he laughs, a little embarrassed.

"What, you can't just be yourself?" The bespectacled teen asks, raising an eyebrow.

Jeremy settles a little further into his comfortable position before smiling gently.

"It's always better when you're around," he admits quietly. "It's easier for me to be myself when you're there. I feel like I can be more confident as long as you're with me."

Despite himself Michael can feel his face flushing again. Screw Jeremy and his dumb pretty face and long eyelashes and gorgeous eyes and beautiful hair and dazzling smile and—and—just everything! He hates how easy Jeremy makes him blush, and feel like he's floating on a cloud, far away from all of his troubles.

But of course, while Jeremy is radiant and as confident as he says, Michael is too embarrassed and lacks self-esteem, so instead of accepting the compliment he blurts, "That's gay, Jer."

And then he proceeds to mentally kick himself. Stupid Michael, _stupid!_

Jeremy isn't offended. Instead he sticks his tongue out teasingly at him.

"Come on. You know you're my favorite person," he chortles, teeth a blinding white as he grins.

This time Michael's prepared. He doesn't meet Jeremy's eyes as he starts up the game, getting through the opening credits and immediately selecting "two players".

"And you're mine," he says, meaning it both ways.

"Duh," Jeremy rolls his eyes fondly. "Who else would it be?"

_Nobody_ , Michael thinks, his mind already getting into the "killing zombies" mindset as they start level nine. _Nobody else in the whole wide world._

Their energetic shouts and cries fill the air for the next couple hours. They take breaks and pass around soda and chips, making games to throw it into each other's mouths. Michael always wants things to be this way, but...but...

He's half-asleep when midnight hits, barely registering soft fingers combing through his hair. He groggily wonders if his mom suddenly showed up, but it's actually Jeremy, who is watching him with the sweetest of smiles and eyes like the sky.

"Michael," he whispers, gently pulling his cheek.

Michael whines and bats his hands away half-heartedly. He's tired and he needs to get his rest for tomorrow. They're pulling an all-nighter, after all.

"M, come on," Jeremy snickers, rubbing thumbs over his cheekbones. "I have to go home. Can you drive me there?"

"Mmmyeah," he answers sleepily.

"Do you want me to bring anything for tomorrow?"

Michael forces himself to sit up and rubs his eyes, trying to think through the haze that had settled over his brain.

"Uh...money. For the arcade. An'...any snacks 'n games you want."

"Okay." Jeremy nods, tilting his head at him, concerned. "You good enough to drive?"

"Yea." The tired boy affirms.

Jeremy offers a hand and he takes it, rising to his feet. The pale teen holds it a little longer than necessary, something that doesn't go unnoticed by Michael. He goes to pick up his things, which have been discarded all over the room, and when he's ready he stands waiting at the bottom of the stairs while Michael grabs his keys.

Jeremy's house is approximately nine minutes away from Michael's, which is a twenty minute walk, give or take. Usually they meet up somewhere in the middle if they're without a car. That sort of thing happened more frequently before Michael got his, but now that he does it takes barely any time at all to see his best friend. He honestly wishes they lived a little closer, but nine minutes isn't the worst thing ever.

The drive is nice and short, without any troubles. Since it's so late, there's nobody out, and the stoplights blink an orange-yellow. When they pull into Jeremy's driveway Michael turns the car off and walks him to the door.

"What time do you want to start tomorrow?" Jeremy asks while he looks for his keys.

Michael thinks about this for a couple seconds. It can't be too late in the day to make him think he's wasted precious time, but he doesn't want it to be at the crack of dawn, either. He'll save that for the next morning.

"Uh...how does nine sound?"

It's later than they have to get up for school, so they'll get to sleep in for a little bit, at least.

The brunette makes a noise of agreement before swinging open the front door.

"Okay, then. Nine it is." And he turns back, seeming to think something over. His expression is thoughtful.

Then, out of nowhere, he snuggles into Michael's chest, his arms locking around his neck in a very intimate hug. Michael almost releases a squeak of distress before finally melting into it and hugging back, inhaling the scent of pine and fresh laundry and just _Jeremy_.

"See you tomorrow, M. Drive home safe, okay? Text me when you get back," he whispers before pulling away, looking at him with a serious gaze.

Michael nods wordlessly and then Jeremy releases him. He trots up to the door and steps inside, giving him a little wave before shutting it behind him.

Michael stands there for a solid minute before breathing out a heavy sigh. Jesus Christ. Jeremy is going to be the death of him, he's sure. He won't be surprised if that's how he goes out tomorrow.

As he drives home he can't help but wonder what's gotten into his friend lately. He's been a lot more...clingy? Cuddly? Either way, Michael's definitely getting signs that Jeremy's been acting differently around him. He doesn't mind it, not at all—in fact everything that's been happening is more than welcome in his book. The hugging, the holding hands (sometimes), the overall way Jeremy seems to stick to him like glue...it's literally the best thing to have ever happened to him, and he's so grateful and glad for it. Now that he thinks about it, even when Jeremy talks about Christine he no longer has that look of utter adoration and puppy love anymore. Nowadays it's more of a respectful admiration, and a polite fondness. The previous two emotions haven't vanished, however. It almost feels like they're being directed at Michael himse—

He quickly steps on the breaks, almost crashing into his garage. Oh, is he home already?

Before he goes inside he sends a quick text to Jeremy telling him he'd made it home safely. He leaves out the part where he almost hit the garage door with his car, though.

He can't afford to think about what Jeremy's actions mean. There's absolutely no way he feels the same. There's no way, but...Michael's going to tell him tomorrow, since it'll be his last chance to do so. Even if his best friend rejects him, Michael wants him to know just how much he means to him. Jeremy is more important than anybody, anything, Michael's whole entire _world_ —

He throws himself onto his bed, landing with a dull thump. Exhaustion tugs at his eyes. Tomorrow everything will come to an end. The laughter, the sleepovers, Michael and Jeremy. It'll just be player two from now on, forced to take his position. That thought makes his eyes sting.

Maybe the real price for these tickets he's giving up is his happiness, after all.

It isn't too long before he succumbs to sleep—his last night of it. He hopes it's filled with good dreams and shooting stars and not the fact that death will greet him once the dawn arrives in one day's time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And theeeere's chapter two! //throws confetti
> 
> A couple notes, please bear with me:
> 
> *That song Michael sang is one I wrote for him lmfao. Honestly I am not the best songwriter in the world and have zero experience doing it (I just make shit up as I go and write down whatever comes to mind, I don't play any instruments so I don't write actual notes for it or anything), but I did really like how the chorus sounds for that goofy song so I decided to put it in there. Meh. But I do love the idea of Michael writing love songs for Jeremy and playing them on the guitar as he desperately thirsts for his best friend's attention heHEH  
>  **EDIT: I sang the song Michael wrote for Jeremy in this chapter over here if you want to give it a listen! http://shima-draws.tumblr.com/post/162135970326/h-h-h-here-it-isthe-song-i-wrote-for-michael-or**
> 
> *Okay so a couple people have pointed out that Michael is taller than Jeremy and I've been writing that the other way around?! I honestly had no idea who was taller lol, I just headcanon that Jeremy is taller than Michael and can cuddle his short boyf easier since he's like. A skyscraper haha. If that really bothers you guys I can change it, but for now imma leave it how it is c: I never really bothered to look at their height difference when I was watching clips of the show...whoopsies~
> 
> *Also a headcanon of mine is that Jeremy is actually very smart, he just doesn't like school lol. So he gets straight As like the smartass he is. (I don't know if this is mentioned in the book, but it's just what I think, anyway ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> That part where they're talking in Shakespearean is my favorite tho //shot  
> Also if it isn't explicitly obvious yet. Jeremy doesn't have a crush on Christine anymore. He's got his eye on someone else now //waggles eyebrows
> 
> It's gonna take a little while longer for me to get chapter 3 up since I haven't written much of it yet. It will be a miracle if I can get it posted tomorrow. But most likely it'll probably come out Thursday, since I have to work Tuesday and Wednesday, sigh...so please be patient until then! At most this story is gonna be four or five chapters, five max. So yeah, not much longer to go! Thankfully I have the majority of the last chapter written out, so the ending is all wrapped up already :3c 
> 
> Anyway thanks again for all of your amazing support, you guys ROCK, I'm so so grateful to all of you! Until next time! The next chapter is gonna be hella fun! Speaking of which, if ya'll have any suggestions about what else the boys should do on their last day, hmu! Leave a comment and I might be able to squeeze it in! //fingerguns
> 
> Also Michael is right, cherry is the dominant flavor and anybody who thinks green apple is the best can come and fite me (not really please don't I am a wIMP)


	3. Good Morning, Time to Start the Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAA you guys I'm sorry for not uploading on Thursday like I said I would but!! I got really distracted by this AMAZING novel called Ready Player One and before you ask YES I already made up a BMC AU for it since I love to torture myself that way. Jeremy's avatar is called Ny0 named after Keanu Reeves' character in The Matrix and Michael's avatar is named Ehm (so like how Aech's is the spelling of H, Ehm is M. Get it?) So yeah I'm now in RPO hell as well as BMC hell so I figured why not combine the two? //shot  
> Also I'm sure you don't care but I'M IN LOVE WITH AECH he's just like Michael, the supportive, awesome bff who gets ditched halfway through the story for a girl but then they reconcile so it's alright~
> 
> Anyway, here we are! I finished this chapter last night but I was too tired to post it so;; also I originally intended for Michael's final day to all take place in ONE CHAPTER but of course I cannot stop writing so by the time I looked this chap was already at 5K words and the boys weren't even halfway through the day yet. So. Might as well drag it out longer amirite pffffp  
> So once again I've gone and split it up some more. The next chapter will conclude the Final Day and then, well...you'll see ;D
> 
> And most importantly, I must give you a **WARNING** for this chapter: there is _blood_ , so please, take caution! I've already got people on the edges of their seats about the whole death thing so I figured I should probably tell you about the blood...it's nothing too serious, but hey, the warning is there.
> 
> Several people have told me that they prefer short Michael even though it seems that George is taller than Will lol. Tbh I like it that way better too so yea, he's staying a shortie. :3c
> 
> And, without further ado...here we go! Chapter three! Thanks so much for your patience, and I hope you enjoy! As always, there's extra stuff at the end, so please read that as well if you have the time! Roll the chappy!

"Last one."  
  
Michael stares beyond the desk, wondering what awaits him on the other side. His gaze drops towards the keeper of the tickets. They look solemn.  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Alright, hand it over, kiddo."  
  
Michael glances down at his last ticket, memorizing the delicate pattern and the bold numbers written on the side. Then, with a deep breath, he gives it up. It slides through his fingers, and suddenly the weight of his stress, anxiety and worries fade. It's done now.  
  
"That was surprisingly easy," the clerk mumbles, moving slowly to punch the ticket. "Most people fight me on it. Especially on their last day."  
  
Michael smiles bitterly at this. "Why should I try to fight? I'm going to die. I just have to accept that, I guess..."  
  
They shake their head at him, mystified. "You know, I've never met somebody like you. You're definitely not normal."  
  
"Hey!" Michael huffs, grinning a little. They return it with a smirk and finally, finally punch a hole in his ticket. His very last one.  
  
Silence reigns between them for a long moment. Then, it's broken.  
  
"Okay," the clerk whispers, setting down the slip. "You're all set. I hope you have the best last day on earth ever, kid."  
  
"Ah, wait a minute!" Michael squeaks, jumping a bit.  
  
"What? You can't take it back, you know. It's already done."  
  
The teen dismisses that with a wave of his hand. "No, no, not that. I was just wondering...can I...can I have that ticket?"  
  
Clearly the question is absurd for the clerk blinks at him, eyes wide. They look positively shell shocked.  
  
"Wh—what for? Why do you want it? It's useless now, it's—it won't save you. It won't work."  
  
"I know that," Michael continues. "I just want to have it, that's all. I mean, it's like...sentimental? In a way?"  
  
Again he is answered with another long, confused stare. And then, they burst out laughing.  
  
"That is—ahaha! That's the strangest thing to have ever come out of a human's mouth before!" They cackle, holding their sides. "Ahh, that is gold! I'm saving that for the record books. The boss is gonna get a laugh out of that one."  
  
"Hey, come on man, I was trying to be serious," Michael complains, feeling his cheeks burn in shame.  
  
The clerk wipes tears out of their eyes and smiles, a genuine one.  
  
"You really are one of a kind, I'll give you that," they chuckle. "Sure, you can have it. I already submitted the record, so it's useless now. Take it."  
  
Michael feels himself relax, relief loosening the tenseness in his shoulders. They hand the ticket back to him and he beams, putting it into his pocket for safekeeping.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"No problem." They shrug it off. "It was nice knowing you, kid. Now hurry up and scram. You're wasting daylight."  
  
"Right!"  
  
Michael closes his eyes and prepares for the trip back to complete consciousness, but not before he gives the clerk a sincere thank you.  
  
He swears he sees a tear slide down their cheek, and then he's enveloped in blackness.

* * *

Michael is brought awake by birdsong outside his window and sunlight slicing through the blinds to create a halo of light around the crown of his head.  
  
Groggily he wipes his eyes and stretches out his arms, grunting when his shoulder pops. He feels oddly refreshed and serene, even though he'd just given up the final pass to the ride that is his life. Is this what some old people feel like when they're about to die? At peace with everything, and satisfied that their lives had been full of joy and wonder?  
  
While Michael's life might not have been as long as he would hope, he's honestly happy with how it's been. A roof over his head, a childhood of laughter and a best friend who has his back through thick and thin. Yeah, that's a pretty nice summary of who Michael Mell is.  
  
He rolls over to grab at his phone and checks the time. 8:32 on the dot. School started about an hour ago. Thankfully he doesn't have to deal with messages asking why he's not present, for the only person who cares is also skipping school with him.  
  
And of course, Jeremy is an early bird, wide-eyed and awake as soon as the sun rises, so there is already a text awaiting him.  
  
Jeremy: You up?  
  
He'd sent it seven minutes ago. He's probably already ready to leave.  
  
Michael brushes the last remaining bits of sleep out of his eyes and types back, albeit slowly.  
  
Me: Yea  
  
Right away the ellipse bubble pops up. Jeremy's obviously been waiting for him to answer.  
  
Jeremy: You okay?  
  
A warm feeling encases his heart and he smiles. There he goes again, ever the worrywart.  
  
Me: Yup! Be there in 20?  
  
Jeremy: Sounds good. You wanna go somewhere for breakfast?  
  
Michael thinks it over before grinning.  
  
Me: Ice Cream Cafe!!  
  
Jeremy: I still don't know why you call it that lol  
  
Laughter echoes throughout his room, reverberating.  
  
Me: Because along with pastries and breakfast food they also sell ice cream and sing a song every hour  
  
Me: Welcome to our ice cream!! To our ice cream CAFE!! Come and take a load off! And PLAAAAAAY  
  
Jeremy: I HATE IT WHEN THEY SING THAT SONG ESPECIALLY WHEN THEY GET ALL UP IN MY FACE U GH  
  
Michael throws his head back and cackles, wheezing with every breath. Ooh, yikes. Looks like his lungs are starting to act up again...he really hopes he can hang on a little longer and not ruin the day by having an attack.  
  
He manages to get himself back under control, his chest burning a little. But there's still a wide grin on his face, and Jeremy wipes away any other worries he has for the time being.  
  
Jeremy: But fine I'll go if it's for you  
  
Michael's heart thumps wildly in his chest, his cheeks heating.  
  
Jeremy: Their french toast is really good anyway. Like, orgasmic  
  
He resists the urge to snort. Of _course_ Jeremy would describe them that way. He thinks about sending a witty response but decides not to. There's only so far he can go before he starts to push the boundaries of their friendship. And he can go pretty far before that happens.  
  
Me: Okay good to know but TMI dude  
  
Jeremy: Whoops :')  
  
Me: I have to get ready now. Be there soon  
  
Jeremy: See you M. Careful driving  
  
Michael resists the urge to burrow back into bed and squeal like a little girl. He knows this isn't a date, it's just two best friends cutting school to hang out and just bond— _friendly_ bonding, not romantic, he tells himself over and over. Besides, he can't get his hopes up about anything, not anymore, because his time is so very short.  
  
Pushing those thoughts aside (he's had enough of thinking about death, _not today_ , he repeats in his head) he crawls out from under the covers and pads to the bathroom to go through his morning routine.  
  
Once his teeth are brushed and his hair is combed back neatly, he fetches his hoodie out of the dryer where he'd left it yesterday and slides it over his head. It still smells like rainwater, but also like one of those laundry sheets, so it's a very clean and soothing scent. He double checks to make sure all of his patches are in place before he gathers up his phone, wallet and keys.  
  
Before he can open the door to the basement and head out, he takes one last look at his bedroom and sighs. He's not sure if this is the last time he'll see it—he and Jeremy might come over after their day out to just relax and finish AotD, but if they don't, just in case...  
  
He memorizes the shape and size of his room, how his walls are covered in vintage posters of oldie bands and classic movies. He sees the spiraling cords of his gaming system plugged into the wall, and two controllers sitting on the edge of the TV stand. Fairy lights are strung up towards the ceiling, giving the room a warm glow. His bed is messily made; some clothes and wrappers are thrown about the room haphazardly...well, at least he never has to clean his room again. That's a plus, right?  
  
He shakes his head and finally turns, closing the door behind him. He's off, determined to make this the best day of his entire life, even better than the one when Jeremy had entered his world for the first time.

* * *

When Michael arrives at Jeremy's house nine minutes later, the brunette is sitting on the steps leading up to his porch. His chin is resting in the palm of his hand while the other scrolls through a wall of Tumblr posts on his phone, his eyes seeming uninterested. The tires of Michael's old car squeal when they pull into the driveway and Jeremy looks up, beaming.  
  
"There you are," he calls, rising to his feet. He shoves his phone in the pocket of his jeans and skips over, graceful as a bird.  
  
By now Michael's put the car in park and has hopped out of the front seat. Why he doesn't just stay and wait for Jeremy to get in the passenger's side is beyond him, but that is answered when the pale teen embraces him, humming happily into his ear. Michael melts instantly, burrowing his nose into his friend's jean jacket. He's going to savor this moment for the rest of the day and hold it close to his heart. Hugging Jeremy is euphoric and it never ceases to make him feel better. If sharing a simple embrace causes him to feel like he's on top of the world, what would kissing him be like, he wonders?  
  
Finally after a long moment, Jeremy pulls away. His cheeks are a soft pink and his eyes are bright sapphire gems. His smile is shy and full of something Michael can't really put his finger on.  
  
"Hi," Jeremy says, giggling a little. Michael feels a grin tug at his lips.  
  
"Hi."  
  
"How're you?"  
  
The shorter boy can't help but laugh. Jeremy's smile is so contagious and it makes him feel kinda bubbly. When Jeremy's in a good mood, so is he. They rub off on each other in that way.  
  
"Great!" He chirps. Really, really great.  
  
"Glad to hear it," Jeremy chuckles good-naturedly. "So...the cafe, then?"  
  
"Yup!"  
  
They hop in the car, Jeremy coming around to take his usual place in the passenger's seat. With seat belts buckled and Michael's music playlist filtering through the speakers on his radio, they pull out of the driveway and head to the mall.  
  
It isn't far from their neighborhood, perhaps a fifteen minute drive on the highway. The roads are pretty empty since everyone is either at work or at school, luckily for them.  
  
The cafe isn't directly inside the mall; it's part of one of the many building structures surrounding it, giving easier access and not as much traffic, especially on the weekends. Michael is extremely grateful for that since he hates being around crowds. It's more bearable when Jeremy's with him, but by himself it's absolute hell and he wouldn't even try risking it alone.  
  
Once they park the car, they walk over to the cafe and are pleased to find it's not extremely busy. The outside patio has a couple of people chatting over strawberry smoothies and muffins, hiding under the shade of large umbrellas. Lights are strung up on the fence surrounding the patio, and the door lets out a merry chime as they step inside of the establishment, the bell ringing.  
  
"Welcome!"  
  
"Toooo our ice cream cafe," Michael sings under his breath to Jeremy, who groans and smacks his arm. He sniggers at the bemused pale teen as they request seating inside.  
  
Despite Michael's tendency to call it the ice cream cafe, it's really just a sweets shop that specializes in breakfast foods on the side. Inside the display cases are rows upon rows of teeth rotting confections, packed with sugar and loaded with icing. One of the cases has huge tubs of ice cream, labeled appropriately. Michael briefly wonders if they should come back later in the afternoon for a treat. He doesn't have to worry about his diet anymore, anyway. So he can munch on crepes until he's completely stuffed if he really wants to.  
  
The walls are an interesting red brick, with fake vines hung in corners of the ceiling along with fans to keep customers cool during the summer. The floor is a chipper yellow tile, matching quite well with the cafe's overall bubbly sort of appearance. There are LED signs up on some parts of the walls, and a couple of neon lights thrown in as well. Normally it would look tacky but in this sort of setting it looks almost natural. It's cute, but it's also high-tech, and Michael loves that aspect.  
  
The cafe is split into two parts—the actual dining area, which consists of small chairs and tables all set up, and the front shop, where people can buy sweets to go if they wish. The best part about it is that the building used to be an old arcade, so there's machines in the far corner, waiting to be played. The cafe had kept them for extra business. It's the ultimate video game ice cream sweets store and one of Michael's favorite places on earth. Sometimes he likes to stop in, buy a hot chocolate, and sit in the corner by the window with his headphones on, composing music or playing his handheld. Most of the time Jeremy comes with him, so it isn't as lonely. He's sort of a regular here, so most of the employees recognize him and give him discounts.  
  
Despite having social anxiety, this is one of the few places he can go without being bothered too much or having a breakdown. There's never too many people, only during a rush, and everyone is friendly to him and knows to leave him alone if he so wishes. He really will miss this place when he's gone...he wonders if the workers will notice when he stops coming to visit.  
  
"Is that Michael Mell?"  
  
Michael beams and waves cheerfully at Kathy, an older woman and one of the few people who's been an employee here since the founding of the store. She's a kind lady who always knows when he needs space or a sugary drink to get him through the afternoon.  
  
She walks over, her apron covered in flour and various other delicious-looking stains, and clicks her tongue.  
  
"Shouldn't you be in school, young man? You too, Jeremy!" She put her hands on her hips and shakes her head at them disappointingly.  
  
"We needed a mental health day, Kathy," Jeremy admits. He knows her well too, because she always insists he eat more every time he stops by. Apparently, by her standards, he's too thin and needs to gain some more weight and fill out.  
  
The blonde sighs and beckons them over with a delicately manicured hand, two menus in her grip. She leads them over to their favorite table in the corner, and they smile at her gratefully.  
  
"Alright, but I'd better not be hearing you boys complain about your grades dropping the next time you come in here," she huffs. She pulls out a tiny notepad and a pen, raising her eyebrows expectantly. "So, then, the usual for you two?"  
  
"Yes ma'am," the boys pipe up at the same time, in perfect sync. She gives them a knowing smile before waltzing away to the kitchen.  
  
"French toast, here I come," Jeremy sighs dreamily, his mouth watering.  
  
Michael snorts and shakes his head, muttering, "I don't want to know."  
  
They chat idly while they wait for their food, going over the most recent news in the video game world. When Kathy comes back with their drinks and their breakfast, Michael is in deep discussion about the newest Nintendo Direct.  
  
"I'm pissed that we're not getting Sinnoh remakes," he gruffs, thanking the blonde waitress as she sets down a plate full of steaming toast, bacon, an omelet, and a breakfast burrito.  
  
Jeremy shrugs his shoulders, already digging into his meal. He groans happily and Michael shoots him an amused look.  
  
The brunette takes a couple more seconds to wolf down the rest of his first piece of french toast, wipes his mouth with a napkin, and then he responds.  
  
"I wouldn't count them out just yet. I mean, we got HeartGold and SoulSilver after Platinum came out, and that was basically a glorified Diamond and Pearl, just like Ultra Sun and Ultra Moon are."  
  
"I guess," Michael sighs. It shouldn't matter since he can't play either of them anyway, but it still makes him upset. "I wonder if these are sequels or more updated versions of Sun and Moon."  
  
"I dunno. It looks like sequels to me. I mean, there were those leaked pictures of Gladion floating around, and he was wearing an Aether Foundation uniform. So I'm gonna put my bets on them being sequels."  
  
Michael nods his head thoughtfully and downs half a glass of orange juice before continuing.  
  
"I really hope Lillie comes back from Kanto. And that Hau is a trial captain!"  
  
"That would be awesome," Jeremy comments, finishing the remainder of his bacon in a flash.  
  
They slip back into silence as they eat their breakfast. Jeremy looks like he's in heaven, and Michael can't blame him. The cafe has the best food, and their treats are to die for.  
  
"Hey, you want some of this?" Jeremy scoops up a bit of french toast onto his fork, which is lathered in syrup. He holds it out to Michael, offering.  
  
Despite himself the shorter boy feels a blush creeping up his neck at the fact that Jeremy is practically trying to feed him. He subtly glances around to see that nobody is paying them any mind, except for Kathy, who titters and looks away politely. She can keep a secret.  
  
Michael quickly leans forward and gathers the bread into his mouth with a soft pop. A part of him internally screams that they'd just shared an indirect kiss—and another side of him tells that part to shut up since this isn't the first time they've done so.  
  
"Mmm," he hums in approval. It really is good. It's not too sweet, and the bread is soft, almost melting in his mouth. The syrup isn't too sticky or thick, making it go down easy. He licks his lips, catching the last remaining bits of syrup and gives Jeremy a thumbs up, who is staring at him with wide eyes.  
  
"'S good...Jer?"  
  
"Oh," Jeremy squeaks, pulling the fork back, which he'd been holding out for several minutes. "Ah, that's, that's good. I mean, I told you so! Haha."  
  
Michael tilts his head at him questioningly, and he waves dismissively.  
  
By the time their plates are clean, the cafe has filled up a little more. Right now it mostly consists of older people and young children who aren't in school yet. From what he can see, they're the only teenagers in the establishment at the moment, besides a couple of college students who don't have classes until the afternoon. Jeremy has just stolen Michael's last piece of bacon and is munching on it when Michael excuses himself to go to the bathroom.  
  
Once he's done he washes his hands and takes a look at himself in the mirror. For some reason, over the past couple of minutes he's had a very unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach, anxiety prickling at his spine. And he knows exactly why. So his reflection stares back at him, nervous and pallid.  
  
_Not now, not now,_ he chants in his head, hoping it will go away. It doesn't. It actually gets worse.  
  
And then, suddenly, he can't breathe.  
  
He steadies himself on the edge of the sink, a hand trailing up his chest. This feeling is all too familiar and he's dealt with it for a very long time, so he doesn't panic. But it's still scary, especially when his eyes start to sting and he coughs, doubling over, trying to catch his breath. The tang of blood burns in the back of his throat and he convulses, his chest heaving.  
  
He coughs harder, and it feels like his throat is tearing itself apart and his lungs are being squeezed by a boa constrictor. He hacks into his hand, eyes going wide when he sees his palms covered in a red substance. Coughing up blood isn't unusual, but it usually results in an immediate trip to the doctor or the hospital, in most cases.  
  
Michael closes his eyes and rides out the pain, desperately hoping nobody will come in, especially not Jeremy. He sobs as he fights to breathe, shaking like a leaf.  
  
After a couple more minutes he finally manages to calm down. When he pulls his arms away from his face his skin is covered in blood, thick and running down his arms like crimson ribbons. He hurriedly sticks his hands under the sink and washes it off, thankful that he managed to keep it from staining his hoodie. It would be hard to notice since his hoodie is already red, but he doesn't want Jeremy to find out, no matter what. Because then their day will be cut short by checkups and pills and a pale boy looking like he's going to cry while doctors poke and prod at Michael all afternoon.  
  
He takes a few more minutes to calm down and breathe. Every inhale is oversensitive and it burns like hell, but eventually the rawness in his throat becomes more bearable. He swallows down some water from the sink and sincerely hopes he doesn't look as pale and shaky as he feels. He can't keep Jeremy waiting any longer otherwise the other teen will start to get suspicious. This isn't the first time Michael's had an attack in a public bathroom, and the last time he'd taken too long and Jeremy had come in after him.  
  
Michael knows that Jeremy hates it when he lies about these incidents, and that it hurts him when Michael tries to play it off. He just doesn't want his friend to worry, and seeing his face contort in concern makes his gut twist in guilt. Either way it's a lose-lose situation for Michael. Jeremy will get worried over him for hours, or he'll get angry and hurt for Michael not telling him things.  
  
He hates this. He really does. It's the absolute worst.  
  
He gathers what's left of his shattered confidence and leaves the bathroom, hoping he looks convincing enough that Jeremy won't question him.  
  
Before he even gets back to the table the brunette is rising to his feet to meet him, lips drawn in a tight line.  
  
"Michael?"  
  
"I'm fine," he states right away, wanting to defuse the situation before it blows up in his face. "My stomach's just a little upset. I think I ate too much."  
  
Jeremy looks at him suspiciously before Michael gives him the most cheerful grin he can muster, and then he relaxes.  
  
"You alright now?"  
  
"Yeah, man," Michael smiles and pulls out his wallet to pay their bill. Operation success.  
  
"Alright, if you say so..."  
  
He still looks a little skeptical but he doesn't press the matter further, much to the other teen's relief.  
  
"So," Michael props his elbows up on the table, "where to next? The mall?"  
  
"Sure."

* * *

Michael highly enjoys coming to the mall on weekdays.  
  
There is barely anybody here, except for the occasional couple on vacation or worker taking a break. He knows it'll get hectic around lunch, so he plans to leave before then. Or at least get somewhere where they won't be swamped by people.  
  
He and Jeremy stroll around the premises, popping their heads into various stores and examining tons of clothing. Jeremy holds up a girl's shirt curiously and Michael laughs at him, finding it hilarious. He's rewarded with a scowl and deep ocean eyes boring into his own, making his heart jump. Every time Jeremy looks at him like that it feels like an arrow is piercing through. It's absolutely exhilarating.  
  
He can do anything he wants to right now, and it won't matter tomorrow. He could rob a bank or steal game cartridges from GameStop or even drive his car into the river but none of that really interests him. All he wants to do is be with Jeremy, all the way up until his last moment, his final second in this world. Luckily, Jeremy is willing to comply, even though he doesn't know the true reason why Michael wants him to stay over and pull an all-nighter until the sun rises.  
  
Michael spots a bracelet with beads and a couple of star charms on it at an Indie store, and is enraptured. He adores bracelets, having several stacked up on both wrists, and Jeremy knows this better than anybody. So of course the brunette offers to buy it for him, in return for paying for breakfast.  
  
"What? No, no, you don't have to," Michael mumbles, blushing.  
  
Jeremy rolls his eyes. "Just let me get it for you, dude. I can tell you want it." And he waves a couple of dollar bills in front of Michael's face, teasing, "Shut up and take my money!"  
  
After bickering a bit more, Michael gives in. He's already said it before; he can never say no to Jeremy. It's nearly impossible to.  
  
Minutes later they're taking the escalator up and Michael is beaming, gently running his fingers over the star charm on his wrist.  
  
Has he mentioned already how much he loves Jeremy? He'll say it again and again. He'll shout it to the skies if he has to.  
  
"Hey, it's loser one and loser two," a voice calls from the other end of the floor.  
  
The two teens look over in surprise to see none other than Jake and Rich standing there, wearing high class jackets and designer shoes that scream "My parents are rich!" Michael already feels uncomfortable and Jeremy has shifted so he's halfway in front of him, shielding him. The shorter boy has to smile at his overprotective friend. Seriously, Jeremy is _such_ a mom.  
  
"What are you two doing here? Get suspended for starting a dumpster fire again?" Jeremy asks, his tone wary.  
  
Rich and Jake cross the distance between them, scrutinizing them.  
  
"Nah, man, we ditched class," Jake says nonchalantly. "What about you, though? I thought nerds liked being in school."  
  
Michael snorts and resists the urge to roll his eyes at them.  
  
"We decided we didn't want to go either," Jeremy mumbles, one of his hands sliding behind his back. He's close enough to Michael that he can lock his pinkie around the other boy's and the guys won't see.  
  
It's really, really hard not to smile when Jeremy eventually slides his fingers between Michael's own. That is so _gay_. And he loves it, holy shit.  
  
"I'm actually surprised to see you here, tall ass! I didn't know you had the guts to skip school," Rich cackles, using his favorite nickname for Jeremy, whose shoulders tense up.  
  
"Yeah, whatever. Michael? Let's go."  
  
And Jeremy releases his hand before turning around and walking in the other direction, reaching over to pull on Michael's elbow, guiding him away.  
  
"Hey! We're not done talking to you yet!" Rich snaps, and starts to follow them. Shit. What does he want? Why can't he and Jake just leave them alone?  
  
Jeremy picks up the pace but the other teen is relentless. He's going to catch up to them, and who knows what he'll do then. Verbal abuse is fine, but physical? Michael doesn't want to get in trouble for punching Rich again. He's done it before, to protect Jeremy. Although it would be easier to get away with it here, instead of at school surrounded by teachers just waiting to find an excuse to throw them in detention.  
  
So he does the only thing he can think of to do.  
  
He bends over and wheezes, a hand flying up to grab at his throat. He's somewhat lucky, in a morbid way, that he's had so many attacks, so he knows exactly what to do to make having a fake one look real.  
  
"Michael?!" Jeremy cries, crouching down beside him. Oh—crap. He kinda forgot to take his best friend into account. He really shouldn't try to just wing things like this. Well, it's too late to go back now.  
  
Thankfully Rich stops in his tracks, Jake following behind him. Michael heaves a breath and coughs again, begging _please please please leave us alone_. Understandably, Jeremy starts to freak out.  
  
"M— _shit!_ Are you okay? Just—easy, M, just breathe, alright?"  
  
Michael opens his mouth to respond but accidentally chokes on his own spit in the process. Oops.  
  
His fake coughs dissolve into genuine ones really fast, and tears gather at the corner of his eyes. The attack from earlier that morning gave him a wicked sore throat, and this isn't helping much.  
  
_Way to be a screwup, Michael,_ he chastises himself as he swallows down a gulpful of air. He's never ever going to do this again.  
  
It seems his tactic has worked since Jake and Rich look uncomfortable and unsure of what to do.  
  
"Let's just go," Jake mutters. Rich nods and they walk off, casting uncertain glances over their shoulders at the two of them.  
  
Jeremy almost flips them off again. Almost.  
  
Once they're out of sight Michael sighs and stands up, dusting off his jeans. Jeremy hovers near him worriedly, tracing soothing patterns onto his back.  
  
"Michael? Hey—talk to me, M. Are you okay?"  
  
There isn't really any need to hide the truth anymore. So,  
  
"Oh, that? I was faking it," he comments offhandedly. Jeremy gapes at him, speechless.  
  
"Wh—wh—? You...really?" He squeaks, flailing for words.  
  
Michael shrugs. "It looked like they weren't going to leave us alone, so I just pretended. Er...well, at first, anyway, because then I _actually_ choked on my own spit and then I did start coughing for real..." He rambles, making a face.  
  
Suddenly, Jeremy hunches over. Michael jumps in shock, immediately going into worried mode.  
  
"Jeremy? You okay, man?"  
  
A noise leaps out of Jeremy's throat and then Michael realizes.  
  
He's _laughing._  
  
"Oh my god," he wheezes, wiping tears out of his eyes. "You are such a _dork!_ Choking on your own—ahaha!"  
  
Michael stares for a moment before breaking out into a soft smile. God, he loves hearing Jeremy laugh. It's one of he most wonderful sounds in the whole wide world. He hopes he can make him laugh a lot more before the end arrives.  
  
He yelps when the brunette suddenly punches his arm.  
  
"But don't do that again," Jeremy continues harshly, though amusement still dances in his eyes. "You really scared me, M. I thought you were really having an attack."  
  
Aw, dammit. He's got that upset, kicked puppy look on his face, and Michael's stomach clenches with guilt.  
  
"'M sorry," he apologizes sincerely, looking down. Jeremy smiles and reaches over to ruffle his hair playfully.  
  
"No harm done. Now, how about we hit the arcade and blow this popsicle stand?"  
  
The shorter boy chuckles and follows him.  
  
"Who even says that anymore, J?"  
  
"What? Don't all the cool kids say it?"  
  
"That was the lamest thing I have _ever_ heard you say. And you've said a lot of lame things."  
  
" _Hey!_ "  
  
"Ahaha!"  
  
They laugh merrily as they make their way, fully intent on topping all of the high scores and becoming arcade heroes.  
  
The day has only just begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Their day has gotten off to a pretty decent start, right~?
> 
> A couple notes:
> 
> *There's actually a whole story behind the ice cream cafe thing but it's really really stupid and long so I'll just leave it up to your imagination lmfao  
> If it isn't obvious I have a thing for cafes and cute coffee shops like. Why isn't there a cafe AU for BMC already. I might have to take it upon myself to make one after this //strokes chin thoughtfully  
> I wish the Ice Cream Cafe was a place in real life because I would totally go there
> 
> *I don't even know if the boys like Pokemon but they're nerds so why not? You can see how much of a dweeb I am because of what they're saying in the dialogue, I know about all of this Ultra Sun and Ultra Moon shit and I too am disappointed about the lack of Sinnoh remakes. Maybe next year //sighs
> 
> *Also I. That song I wrote last chapter for Michael? I already have a tune and everything for it. I would like totally post it so you guys could hear but sjdkjgndn I am so goddamn shy about things like that and also it sounds fine in my head but listening to the recording of me singing I SOUND LIKE A TWELVE YEAR OLD AND IT'S EMBARRASSING. Maybe I can play it on the piano or something. Or have my Sis figure out the chords on the guitar for me...and post that. Hmm...
> 
> *I apologize if that whole Michael-pretending-to-have-an-attack offended any of you. Idk why it should but. Just wanted to throw that out there, I guess //shrugs (I dunno, I feel like it's a plausible way to get bullies to leave you alone, and it's Michael's illness so he has the liberty to do what he wants with it) Speaking of which, I don't know what it's like to have an attack like that for real, so pardon if the way I wrote it is inaccurate. I'm not a professional who can say for sure how it feels. I just went with my gut ;w;
> 
> People on tumblr keep sending me angsty Moulin Rouge AU ideas and I am just drowning in feels over there hh  
> Come talk to me on tumblr!! I love chatting with people, seriously! We can talk about any of my BMC AUs or YOUR AUs or just BMC in general so. It'll be a fun time, hmu! My tumblr is here in case you don't know ---> http://shima-draws.tumblr.com/
> 
> AND THAT'S ALL I'VE GOT, FOLKS! I can't say when the next chapter will be up, but I want to say soon, so. c: Looks like this story is gonna end up being five chapters after all. Or six. I might end up pushing it farther lol.  
> There is still time to send suggestions about what else the boys should do on Michael's last day! Ser suggested they pull a Dear Evan Hansen and climb some trees lolol so yeah. If you want to suggest something, feel free! I'll take it into account!
> 
> Until next time, lovelies! And THANK YOU for all of the amazing comments, as always! I am blessed >//w//< You're all sweethearts!


	4. An Ocean of Cosmic Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //KICKS DOWN THE DOOR HEY GUESS WHO'S HERE
> 
> Aahhhh sorry you guys! I know it's been a couple weeks since I last updated but here I am...finally...with more Life Tickets! Hooray!  
> Once again I have gone over my limit; I wanted to wrap up the day in this chapter but that obviously didn't happen so I split it up even more! Whoops  
> I just wanted there to be explicit detail of all the things they did together on Michael's last day. Brushing over things is not my style, at least not in this context!
> 
> All I can say about this chapter is wow yikes Michael pines. He’s pining so hard SO MUCH pining there is a lot of pine, an unbelievable amount of PINING for Jeremy. I can’t believe I wrote this look at all of that pining I’m incredulous. The pining is through the roof. Ridiculous.  
> Yeah the angst isn't here yet laddies this chappy is just an insane amount of fluff. Teeth-rotting fluff, you can make ten pounds of cotton candy with all of this fluff.
> 
> Also, uh? Remember that song from chapter 2? I, uh, posted me singing it over here if you wanna go listen to it: http://shima-draws.tumblr.com/post/162135970326/h-h-h-here-it-isthe-song-i-wrote-for-michael-or  
> I also put the link back in chapter two so. Just an FYI.  
> But yeah I cannot BELIEVE the amount of support I've gotten for this song! People sending me fanart and uke/guitar chords for it and people who want to cover it I?? I'm sitting over here sobbing my eyes out because you're all so lovely thANK YOU
> 
> And thanks to you guys, for all of your amazing and wonderful comments, kudos, fanart, etc! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH and I would do anything for you
> 
> Also, I'm still debating this, but I'm thinking of **starting and ask blog based off of this AU.** I know I want to make an ask blog for BMC but I'm not sure whether I want it to be for this story or for my Ready Player One AU--hence I'm asking you guys what you think!! Whichever one you want more, I'd be happy to do either! (And btw, the whole summary for my RPO AU is here if you wanna read it and check it out: http://shima-draws.tumblr.com/post/161672771751/slams-hands-down-on-table-how-about-telling-us)
> 
> OKAY that's it that's all I've got for you for now. So, hope you enjoy all of the fluff, and...  
> Roll the chappy!

The first thing they tackle is Pac-Man.  
  
It sits in the corner of the arcade, a relic amongst the newer, more high-tech racing and shooting games. Even so it's still a beloved classic, seen by how the letters on the start button have been smudged beyond recognition. Michael and Jeremy crowd around it, fighting over who gets to play first. In the end it doesn't matter since they switch out frequently, trying to see how far they can get before they die. They've reached the end before, once—but it had taken seven hours and there was a long line of complaints about them hogging the machine (they got a shit ton of tickets though, not going unnoticed by the manager, who was beyond impressed with their skills).  
  
Michael allows Jeremy to go first, who cracks his knuckles and then winces like the silly wimp he is. They stand side by side, their hips and shoulders pressed together as Jeremy plays. The brunette doesn't seem to mind the close proximity, even leaning in closer to Michael between levels, nudging him gently with his side. Michael's stomach flutters whenever this happens, his heart warming with an affectionate buzz.  
  
"Fuck," Jeremy hisses as he's caught by one of the ghosts, sending a pleasurable trill down Michael's spine.  
  
The taller teen sighs and ruffles his hair. He tilts his head at Michael curiously. They've been standing here for a good fifteen minutes or so.  
  
"Wanna switch?"  
  
"Yeah, dude."  
  
They trade places quickly before the next level starts. To Michael's surprise and utmost joy Jeremy takes his exact position, leaning fully against him. He's very warm as he rolls his shoulders, easing himself into a more comfortable stance after the tension.  
  
With Jeremy pressed up against his side Michael has a very hard time focusing on the level. He loses lives quickly, scowling at Jeremy who teases him and asks if he's spacing out.  
  
Before long the game over screen flashes at them, showing their not-so-decent score. Tickets spew out of the machine and Jeremy takes them, stowing them in his pocket for the time being.  
  
"That was awful," he comments, amusement pulling up the corners of his mouth.  
  
"Oh, shut up!" Michael laughs, gently shoving his shoulder. Jeremy shoves back and they shuffle along to the next game.  
  
The next couple hours seem to fly by in a crazy blur of screeching tires and gunshots, followed by agitated curses and cries of triumph. They try just about everything, from claw machines to pinball games. Michael prides himself in claw machines, being able to get pretty much anything he sets his sights on with the right amount of confidence. Jeremy had tried a good five times before giving up with a groan. Luckily Michael had stepped in to save the day, rescuing a sad Eevee plush for his friend.  
  
Jeremy holds the fennec fox in his arms as they bounce around the machines, racking up tickets as they go. Sometimes when Jeremy wants to play a specific game he'll take Michael's hand and lead him there, thumb brushing over his knuckles softly every time.  
  
When they get to Dance Dance Revolution Michael is prepared to sell his soul, anything to not participate. He absolutely sucks at dancing and would rather not humiliate himself in front of his best friend—not that he hasn't done that a million times already. But Jeremy, ever the convincer, talks him into it. Honestly it's more fun to just watch Jeremy perform, his eyes narrowed in concentration and sweat gathering on his brow as he follows the arrows in perfect sync. Michael misses almost every step, too caught up in his friend to notice his score is plummeting.  
  
By the time they're ready to leave they have an armful of tickets, several plushies and the glow of a successful arcade domination.  
  
"Okay, what should we get?" Michael asks as the guy at the counter tallies up how many tickets they've gotten. It's almost ironic, the fact that they're trading in tickets for something probably useless—completely different from how Michael gives up tickets for his life.  
  
"Uhh..." Jeremy's eyes dart to and fro, examining the prizes under the glass. His lips are pursed adorably as he cuddles the Eevee toy in his arms. Jeremy has always loved it, finding its evolutions fascinating. He almost always has an Eevee on his team in the Pokemon games, and usually evolves it into something different every time. Though Michael's sure he prefers Espeon over all the others ("Espeon is both elegant and a kickass Psychic type. Fight me.")  
  
"Oh, look," he points, and Michael follows his gesture to a set of rings sitting in the case. "Limited edition Voltron rings."  
  
"Are they limited edition?" Michael gasps, leaning down to inspect them further.  
  
"I'll get the blue one, you get the yellow one," Jeremy suggests, his eyes twinkling mischievously. He's obviously referring to the similarities they have with Lance and Hunk.  
  
Michael is inwardly shouting at the fact that they're getting matching rings that he doesn't even bother to think about it.  
  
"Those are pricey," the worker says, chuckling. "But I think you guys have enough to get 'em. You sure that's what you want?"  
  
"Yeah," Jeremy nods, smiling.  
  
"O—kay," the guy nods before opening the case and withdrawing the rings, handing them over to Jeremy. "Enjoy."  
  
Jeremy takes Michael's hand and drags him out of earshot, into a row of unoccupied machines.  
  
"Give me your hand," he murmurs, and Michael offers him his left.  
  
Jeremy carefully slides the yellow ring onto his ring finger. Michael immediately turns crimson, not missing the implications of what Jeremy's just done. The pale boy is smiling at him softly, his eyes like the horizon, and Michael feels like the luckiest person in history. He's so blessed to know Jeremy, and to be his best friend.  
  
"Wanna put mine on me?" Jeremy jokes, laughing. But Michael is quick, leaning over to snatch the ring out of his hand and seamlessly slide it onto Jeremy's left hand, onto the same finger as Michael's.  
  
Jeremy stares down at the bauble for a moment, an odd smile on his face.  
  
"Now we match!" Michael tries to be nonchalant, but the way his voice cracks gives him away. He hopes Jeremy doesn't notice.  
  
He's rewarded with a sunny grin. "Yup."  
  
"Alright," Michael breathes, his fingers involuntarily stroking the ring. His cheeks feel hot. "We done here? Wanna go somewhere else?"  
  
"Sure," Jeremy nods, and together they exit the arcade. By now lunch has passed and the mall is pretty empty again, leaving them to stroll around crowd-free.  
  
"Hey..."  
  
Jeremy slows down his gait, his eyes drawn to something on the wall. Michael peers over his shoulder curiously, and immediately his expression lights up.  
  
There's a poster plastered to the surface, with constellations serving as a decorative border and the words "Free showing today!" in bold font across the top. It's an advertisement for the planetarium on the other side of town, promising a fun afternoon of looking at stars and swirling galaxies.  
  
Jeremy smiles knowingly at the excited look on Michael's face. He's always been a bit of an astronomy nut.  
  
"You want to go?"  
  
Michael withholds an eager squeal and tries to keep his grin on the lowdown. It's just been ages since he's gone to the planetarium...he can't even remember the last time he'd been there.  
  
"Can we?" He whispers, fingers clenching.  
  
"Of course," Jeremy answers. He has a fond look in his eyes and chuckles when Michael releases a happy whoop. "It's your day, after all."  
  
"Yes!" Michael cries happily, pumping a fist. Jeremy watches him, his gaze very affectionate.  
  
"You're so cute," the brunette murmurs, smiling nervously and glancing away when Michael turns to face him. The bespectacled teen's face flushes with color again, pink dusting his cheeks.  
  
"Let's go."  
  
Jeremy starts walking towards where they'd parked the car and Michael follows him, pressing his lips to his ring when the taller boy isn't looking.

* * *

The planetarium is a twenty-five minute drive, twenty if Michael speeds. The ride is leisurely and lighthearted. They open the windows of his lame PT Cruiser and let the wind play with their hair as they belt out tunes to a mixed playlist consisting of Bob Marley, Joy Division, Colony House and, surprisingly enough, Panic! At the Disco (Michael is a man of many music tastes, so modern bands catch his fancy too). And Jeremy looks so wonderful sitting there in the passenger's seat, bangs being pushed back from his forehead by the breeze, eyelashes kissing his cheeks as he closes his eyes and opens his mouth to sing the lyrics to _Silhouettes_ in a lovely tenor.  
  
The sun shines overhead, the sky an endless sea of blue, just like Jeremy's eyes. It's not too hot and there is a slight wind, making it a flawless day. Michael couldn't have wished for better.  
  
They pass country roads and fields of sea-green grass, past white picket fences and large trees that create canopies of shade. Jeremy gazes at the scenery, looking contentedly sleepy and dazed as he becomes lost in his own thoughts. Michael has to remind himself several times to keep his eyes on the road instead of on his friend.  
  
When they arrive at the planetarium Michael leaps out of the car and dashes ahead. He laughs jovially as he spins around and around on the tips of his toes, throwing his arms up into the air as he announces, "We're heeeere!"  
  
"Heere," Jeremy snorts, following behind more slowly.  
  
Michael grins and waggles his eyebrows at him. "Heere," he repeats slyly.  
  
"Okay, genius," Jeremy chuckles, walking around him to gently grab his wrist and lead him inside. Michael bites down on his lip, his eyes darting skyward, and tries very hard not to squeal.  
  
The employees don't say a word about their almost-interlocked fingers or the fact that they look like they should be in school as they're administered free passes for the afternoon show. Already Michael's eyes are blown out with awe as he inspects the area, seeing models of spaceships and replica solar systems hanging from the ceiling. He looks positively starstruck.  
  
They have a little time before the screening, so they decide to walk around for a little and brush up on their knowledge of the universe. They pass exhibits featuring Earth-like planets and beautiful stars. Jeremy pays less attention to the factoids and more on Michael, who reads every plaque with fascinated eyes, absorbing the knowledge there like a sponge.  
  
"Wow, so apparently the Apollo astronauts' footprints will stay on the moon for a 100 million more years!" Michael recites, and Jeremy can practically see the sparkles in his eyes. "That is so dope! Man, I want to go to the moon someday," he says dreamily.  
  
Jeremy laughs, albeit nervously. "As if I'd even let you," he says.  
  
Michael faces him fully, a pout on his lips. "Huh? Why not?"  
  
Jeremy shakes his head and puffs out a breath.  
  
"How long does a mission to the moon take? Like...three or four days, give or take. Add that up to the time it would take to get back, and that would be like, a week," he summarizes thoughtfully. "Yeah, there's no _way_ I'd want to be separated from you for that long. Especially if you're going to space." He shudders.  
  
Michael blinks at him for a moment before smiling shyly, his heart fluttering. Jeremy doesn't want to be separated from him! But then his heart plummets and fear makes his body grow warm. Jeremy will have to get used to being without him—for a _long_ time...  
  
Jeremy notices the change in mood and regards him curiously. "M? You okay? You look all sweaty."  
  
Michael snaps himself out of those morbid thoughts and shakes them off, trying to get himself back into the conversation.  
  
"It was just hypothetical, Jer," Michael chuckles.  
  
Jeremy stands up straighter at that, looking offended. "O-of course I knew that! But still."  
  
"Okay, Earth boy," Michael sighs dramatically. "I guess I'll keep my feet on the ground where they belong."  
  
"Don't be a smartass, space cadet," Jeremy teases back, bumping him with his arm. Michael giggles merrily as they continue on their way, trying not to disturb other patrons with their obnoxious laughter and friendly shoving.  
  
Jeremy moves away to check the time on his watch, making Michael bite back a whine of disappointment.  
  
"The presentation's starting soon," he observes, looking up to locate the entrance to the mini theater.  
  
Michael finds it first and immediately uses the opportunity to grab onto Jeremy's wrist again, pulling him in the direction of the signs.  
  
"This way!" He squeaks, his voice cracking again. Dammit, Michael! This is getting to become an awful habit. It's easier when Jeremy initiates these things first.  
  
They flash their passes and step into the room, mouths agape with awe as they look up at the ceiling. Galaxies swirl and stars twinkle up above, making them feel like they're floating in the atmosphere. It takes Michael a moment to get his bearings and to actually drag Jeremy over to a chair and sit down. His cheeks grow warm when he realizes that they're surrounded by couples, guys and girls all laughing and holding hands as they wait for the presentation to begin. Losing his nerve, Michael releases Jeremy and shoves his hand into his hoodie pocket, gnawing on his lip. They're not a couple so why are they holding onto each other? He can't be sure of the answer.  
  
Jeremy looks at him quizzically, eyebrows drawn together and scrunching up his forehead. He opens his mouth to speak but before he can say anything he's interrupted by the automatic voice system, ready to start the show.  
  
"Welcome. To the ever-expanding universe," it begins, and the boys both gasp in wonder as the scenery on the ceiling changes. They both lean back in their chairs.  
  
Michael's eyes dart to and fro, from the array of flashing lights to his best friend. His eyes shoot down to see that Jeremy's arm is sitting on the rest between them, his fingers splayed out. The brunette's fingers twitch expectantly and Michael colors, realizing that it's an invitation. Swallowing, he withdraws his hand out of his pocket and puts his arm right next to Jeremy's, waiting to see what he'll do.  
  
They sit through a fascinating presentation about the expansion of the universe, coupled with some history lessons and animations of stars blowing up to keep them entertained. Midway through the lecture, Jeremy relaxes in his chair, and once again Michael finds himself pressed shoulder to shoulder with his best friend. Their hands brush each other, Michael's star charm bumping against Jeremy's ring.  
  
Without even sparing him a glance, Jeremy's thumb slides over the back of his hand. Michael almost jolts out of his seat, his eyes darting to where their hands meet, a nervous flush settling across his nose.  
  
They're distracted by bright flashing lights, watching as a star collapses on itself, a beautiful yet tragic end. Michael wonders if he'll go out that way, too.  
  
Before he can even realize it, Jeremy's fingers have intertwined with his, and now they're actually holding hands in the middle of the dark room. Michael barely manages to restrain a pleased squeak, fighting against the urge to grin like the Cheshire Cat. This may not be the first time they've held hands but it certainly feels like the most intimate incident where they have.  
  
Jeremy's hand is warm and absurdly soft. His fingers are long and spindly, compared to Michael's shorter and more stubby fingers. They fit together like puzzle pieces, stark ivory skin against a tan brown, Michael's beads and Jeremy's ring. He almost wants to cry it's so wonderful (and part of him tells him to stop being such a fucking romantic; if he can't even handle them holding hands then what's going to happen if their relationship progresses further? Jesus).  
  
Another ten minutes pass and the sound of Jeremy's breathing gets slower and slower until, suddenly, his head drops onto Michael's shoulder. Immediately the shorter boy stiffens, his eyes as wide as saucers, unable to really process what's going on. When it finally does hit him that yes, Jeremy has fallen asleep and is using him as a pillow, he forces himself to relax. And, after summoning up enough courage, he leans his head back against Jeremy's and closes his eyes. He listens to the presentation continue on, talking about black holes and the concept of time, and hums softly. He would give anything to have this moment go on forever. Being here with Jeremy right now, it's the most amazing and precious thing. While his future is limited, Jeremy's is endless, and he really hopes that the brunette will find it in himself to face the days ahead with a smile.  
  
But of course, eventually the showing comes to a close, and the house lights come up. Michael doesn't spare the other people in the room a glance; he only has eyes for Jeremy, who is nuzzling against his shoulder in his sleep.  
  
Michael inhales softly and tries not to drown in his emotions. Now is not the time to break down crying, even though he can feel tears building at the back of his eyes. He'll save that for the morning.  
  
"Jer," he whispers, pressing his forehead against the other boy's. Michael sighs and, against his better judgement, places a soft kiss there. Jeremy hums, starting to wake from his slumber.  
  
"Jeremy," Michael says again, his lips brushing against pale skin. Jeremy's so close, so close...  
  
"Mmm," Jeremy twitches and finally moves, rubbing his cheek on Michael's jacket.  
  
Michael quickly withdraws before the taller teen realizes how close he is, reaching up with a free hand to poke Jeremy's cheek.  
  
"'M up, 'm up." Jeremy lifts his head and yawns, hand squeezing Michael's as he does so. "Sorry....didn't mean to fall asleep on you."  
  
Michael shrugs it off. "It's fine. Did you get enough sleep last night?"  
  
To his surprise, Jeremy blushes a little.  
  
"Ah, well," he says, scratching his chin with a fingernail. "I...I was really excited about today so I had a little trouble sleeping, actually."  
  
"Oh," Michael cheeps. Then, "Really?"  
  
Jeremy rubs the back of his neck bashfully. "Yeah? I mean. We hang out all the time, but. It's been a while since we've actually gone out and done something together, you know? And, like, I'm always happy to do stuff with you." His eyes twinkle. "No homo or anything."  
  
Michael snorts through his nose, shooting his friend a crooked smile as he lifts up their intertwined fingers, raising an eyebrow amusedly. "Yeah, definitely."  
  
Jeremy bursts into giggles and presses his forehead against their hands, brown locks brushing against Michael's wrist. Michael smiles widely and watches with an overly tender gaze, feeling his love for Jeremy reach all the way back onto the deep corners of his heart. Is it possible to overflow with love? Because he thinks it's happening right now. It'll come out in the form of pathetic squeals, bright red cheeks and affectionate cuddles. He feels dizzy and elated and almost a little faint with joy.  
  
He is so flecked...er, fucked.  
  
Jeremy pulls away and tilts his head back, revealing the strong lines of his jaw all the way down to his collarbone as his eyes flicker upwards. The ceiling is still changing periodically, different from the stagnant animation it had when they'd first entered the room.  
  
The stars up above reflect off of Jeremy's eyes, and Michael feels like he's drowning in an ocean of cosmic light. Jeremy's cheeks are speckled with starlight and moons shine on his nose, a truly ethereal sight. His lips are painted with the galaxy, and lord if Michael hadn't wanted to kiss him before he definitely wants to now. He wants to know what the Milky Way tastes like on his tongue and feel his world explode like a supernova.  
  
Jeremy's eyes flicker over to meet his and he smiles shyly, blinking. Michael bites his lip and looks away, unable to meet the unspeakable look in his friend's eyes. It's too much; he can't handle it.  
  
"Okay, so," Jeremy breathes, comets dancing across his cheeks. "I guess the show's over, so...where do you want to go now?"

* * *

Michael isn't entirely sure how they'd ended up in the middle of the woods, but here they are.  
  
When they'd left the planetarium, faces flushed and expressions a bit timid, they hadn't really made any set plans on where to head next. The day had been a rollercoaster of going with their gut and choosing where to go last minute. So the temporary plan was to head back to Michael's place—which quickly ended up being cancelled when they passed by a forest trail on the return trip. Michael doesn't remember who had been the one to suggest they stop and walk around for a little, but now they're here.  
  
The late afternoon sun darts through the trees, creating speckles of dazzling light on the forest floor. All around them is the sound of birdsong and leaves being rustled gently in the wind. The forest path is covered in tiny twigs and bits of wooden debris as they make their way through. The sound of water echoes from nearby, hinting that they might be near a creek of some sort.  
  
"It's really pretty out here," Jeremy observes as he hops off of a rock he'd been perched on.  
  
_Not as pretty as you,_ Michael thinks, groaning with embarrassment at his inner thoughts. Nice, Romeo.  
  
They fall silent, the only noise being the crunching their shoes make on the grassy floor. Sunlight catches off the top of Jeremy's head and makes it shine a hazel brown in the light. Michael's always wondered how different he'd look with lighter hair. It looks nice. Jeremy would probably like nice with any sort of hair color, though. He'll always look nice.  
  
Michael almost trips over a fallen branch and lets out a stream of curses. Jeremy snickers at him (after making sure he's alright) and teases him about daydreaming too much. The brunette has absolutely no idea how much Michael daydreams—and how many times those thoughts have been about Jeremy in particular.  
  
Michael's heart pounds in his ears as they continue on, wondering if now is a good time to confess. They're out here, all alone, without any interruptions. It's beautiful outside, and Jeremy is gorgeous, and they've been kinda canoodling all day so now's as good a time as any, right?  
  
But what if Michael's reading this all wrong? What if Jeremy's just doing this out of a sense of...loyalty to him or something? Well, that really doesn't make any sense at all and Michael knows Jeremy would never purposely string him along like that. But if there's a chance Jeremy doesn't feel the same way, then what exactly is he trying to convey through his sweet gestures and kind words? Michael is way too confused to sort it all out right now.  
  
He chews the inside of his cheek and debates the pros and cons of admitting his undying love for the other boy in the middle of the woods.  
  
Pros: There's nobody else around to witness it, which is nice. The scenery is perfect, almost a bit cliche—like a cheesy romance film. If Jeremy does end up feeling the same way, they can probably make out until the sun sets. In the forest. Awesome first date.  
  
Cons: It might make things totally awkward and they have a fifteen minute walk back to the car. Jeremy might be as straight as a board and find Michael's crush disgusting. He might just run off with Michael's keys or something and leave him stranded here. In the woods. By himself. And then by the time Michael gets back Jeremy will be long gone and he'll die without even getting to say goodbye. _Yikes._  
  
Yeah, maybe this isn't such a good idea. Maybe he should wait until Jeremy's half-asleep at four in the morning, and if he is repulsed Michael can just play it off; blame it on exhaustion and too much soda—  
  
"Whoa, what's that?"  
  
Michael breaks out of his panicked thoughts and tilts his head curiously at a brick tunnel that's appeared out of the blue. The forest shines an earthly green-orange at the other end, beckoning them to the other side.  
  
Jeremy peers through it, sapphire eyes wide and curious.  
  
"Wanna check it out?" He inquires, looking to Michael for confirmation.  
  
"Yeah," Michael nods and together they step through, traipsing through the sort of dark, their footsteps echoing along the walls of the tunnel. It feels like they're entering a passage to another land, a mystical world made only for them.  
  
When they step back out into the sunlight they gape in awe at the scene before them. Trees tower above their heads, spinning dappled sunlight like a disco ball in the wind. Flowers bloom at the edges of the trees, colorful and vivid. The creek has rushed up to greet them, running under their feet with a soft gurgle of water. They've stumbled into some kind of lost wilderness, the view absolutely stunning.  
  
"Jeremy," Michael whispers, breathless. "I think we've found Narnia."  
  
"What?" Jeremy giggles, smiling widely at him.  
  
"Or Terabithia," Michael suggests, shrugging casually. "Whichever you prefer."  
  
Jeremy wrinkles his nose in distaste. "Narnia, please. Because if we're in Terabithia that means one of us isn't gonna make it across the river alive."  
  
Oh, the _irony._  
  
"Well, come on!" Michael laughs, bounding into the field of flowers. Petals scatter around his feet and float into the air, a storm of bright colors.  
  
Jeremy quickly follows behind, laughing as Michael kicks up more discarded petals. They dance in the sky and land in his hair, giving him an almost flower crown. Jeremy wishes he has a camera to capture this all on film. It's too precious.  
  
"You've got one on the tip of your nose," Jeremy chuckles before reaching over to remove it, his thumbs gently brushing Michael's cheeks as he does so. Michael immediately reddens, smirking bashfully at his best friend.  
  
And then, suddenly, something in the air shifts. Michael can't be sure if it's the combination of falling flower petals and sunset lighting that enhance the whole scene, but standing there Jeremy looks practically ethereal, otherworldly. The urge to kiss him multiples tenfold and Michael swallows, his eyes darting nervously to Jeremy's lips and back up to his eyes, which are half-lidded and fervent with some emotion he can't name.  
  
Jeremy reaches up again to dislodge the remaining petals in his hair, stepping closer as he does so. And then everything of Michael's senses are filled with Jeremy—his scent, his touch, his skin. Michael bites his lip again and tries not to groan, feeling so intoxicated and in love that it drives him crazy.  
  
The brunette finishes with his task, his fingers sliding down to lock around the back of Michael's neck, eyelashes fluttering. They're practically nose to nose now, and Michael can't look away, no matter how hard he tries. The blue of Jeremy's eyes threaten to drag him in and submerge him completely until there's nothing left. Michael is prepared to give up all of himself to Jeremy—he'll give and give and give.  
  
"Jer," Michael whimpers, his voice barely audible. Jeremy inhales shakily, his lips parting, leaning in even closer, enough that Michael can feel his breath on his own lips, and it tastes so good, smells so sweet—  
  
A bark in the distance startles them both so badly that they leap away, Michael stumbling that he almost trips.  
  
"Jesus!" Jeremy cries out, a hand over his heart. His face is flushed all the way up to the tips of his ears, his eyes shining too bright in the evening light.  
  
"Dammit," Michael swears under his breath. They had been so close! Close to...he doesn't even want to think about what they could have done, since the moment is over now. And if he thinks about it for too long, imagines running his fingers through Jeremy's hair and kissing him over and over and over until they're both breathless and panting, imagines hiking Jeremy up onto his lap and making him see stars—shit.  
  
"Hey, M? I think there's something over there."  
  
Jeremy seems to have recovered now and smiles at him warmheartedly. Thank god he isn't treating the situation as awkward, otherwise Michael might die a little on the inside. More than he's already going to, anyway.

"Wakey wakey," Jeremy snickers, waving a hand in front of his eyes. "We still have a long night ahead of us. Don't fall asleep on me yet."  
  
"You were the one who fell asleep earlier, not me," Michael shoots back, relieved that they've returned to their usual teasing without any problems.  
  
They walk through a gap in the trees, parting their way through adventurous branches and leafy bushes. The flower field vanishes out of sight, leaving a whole new part of the forest to explore. Before long they break out of the dense greenery to arrive in another clearing, this time filled to the brim with...  
  
"Apple trees!" They both cry out joyfully, their eyes bugging out at the sight.  
  
"No way!" Michael gushes, rushing over to the base of one of them, staring up into the swaying branches. "I had no idea there was an apple orchard around here!"  
  
"Yeah, well," Jeremy glances around nervously, "it's probably on private property, that's why. We're most likely trespassing."  
  
"Trespassing shmeshpassing. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, J!" Michael chirps, already starting to climb up. He can see a perfect spot to sit and watch the sunset while munching on one of the red wonders hanging from the tree.  
  
"Besides, they're not gonna miss a couple of apples," he calls down.  
  
"Michael, be careful!" Jeremy yelps, watching worriedly as he makes his ascent.  
  
"I'll be fine, don't worry," Michael soothes, finally swinging himself up onto the perch.  
  
He picks a couple of vividly red apples and makes himself comfortable, arching an eyebrow at his friend below.  
  
"Come on, Jer. Come sit with me and eat," he urges, waving an apple temptingly.  
  
Jeremy regards him with a bemused look for a couple of moments before giving in with a sigh of defeat. "Okay, okay, I'm coming."  
  
Michael can't help but worry a little as Jeremy scales the tree, grunting as he hoists himself up. But that all fades when the brunette finally makes it to him, dropping his legs over and scooting until they're leaning against each other once more.  
  
The shorter teen wordlessly hands him an apple and Jeremy bites into it, humming happily at the taste. Michael follows suit and licks his lips, savoring the flavor.  
  
From their position they can see out pretty far, miles of forestry and how the sun splashes the wildlife with shades of orange and yellow. The sky is streaked with pink as the sun sets. Jeremy leans his head on Michael's shoulder and Michael wraps an arm around his waist in return, the two of them practically cuddling as they eat. This is absolute bliss.  
  
By the time they return to the car, the sun has dipped below the horizon and leaves the sky splotched with blues and purples. They'd walked back, hand in hand, Jeremy leaning over to nuzzle happily into Michael's shoulder along the way. If Michael wasn't sure about Jeremy's feelings for him before, he definitely is now. But he has to make the timing perfect, wants his confession to go without any problems. So he'll hold on a little longer to reveal everything he's kept bottled up for the better part of the five years that he's been absolutely and irrevocably in love with Jeremy Heere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MICHAEL just confess already you moron TELL HIM YOU LOVE HIM  
> Also I wonder how many times Michael blushes in this chapter somebody should count and tell me because I'm sure it's a lot (there's only so many ways I can say "he blushed" lmfao)  
> As of this chapter the boyfs are officially engaged (if you missed what I did there they put rings on each other's ring fingers like. Where married couples wear their wedding rings ye AH  
> And yes, Jeremy is very very aware of that fact //wink wink nudge nudge)
> 
> Also yeah wow if it isn't obvious by now Jeremy is preeeetty into Michael. Sucks that I gotta tear his heart out whOOPS  
> But how did you like that?? The fluff is almost too much for me to handle and I'm the one who wrote it jesus  
> And they almost kissed...oo la la~
> 
> Who caught all of the BMC lyrics I snuck into this chapter though HAHA  
> There's some in the next chapter too lol
> 
> I did not live through the 80s, as awesome as that would have been lol, so I don't know all the amazing bands from back then. I mean, I know a good handful of them...and I do believe that Michael would be versatile when it comes to music genres, but he'd have more taste for alternative and classic rock, so yeah c: And I really love P!AtD so yeah don't jUDGE ME  
> Also Colony House is a fantastic band and I love all their music and Silhouettes is my favorite song by them so you should all go look it up and listen to it. (Although You And I was the first song I heard by them and I love that one a lot too). I actually put Silhouettes in another fic of mine because I love it so much hdnfjfhfnn RIP
> 
> Aaaaand, um...I think that's it?? I was actually gonna add even more, like Jeremy and Michael stumbling upon this huge cottage in the woods where this old man and his dog lives, and he serves them tea and notices the VERY obvious feelings they have for each other, before asking them to help pick apples in his apple grove (I did include a bit of that, at least) but I ran out of steam and I wanted to get this posted so. Maybe as an "outtakes" chapter I'll add that //shrugs
> 
> Depending on how long it takes me I'll probably upload a silly oneshot I wrote for MBAV, if any of you are from tumblr you know I've been talking about it recently lol. But anyway it's super flufftastic and Benny and Ethan are CANOODLING and Benny says that they are like 50 times, he's just so happy like, "E. E, we're _canoodling_! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH" IT'S A VERY GAY TIME AND I HOPE YOU READ IT //jazz hands
> 
> OKAY BYE you guys are awesome and I treasure every comment I get and the next chapter should be up soon hopefully! This one will DEFINITELY conclude the boys' night and then we'll hit ANGST CENTRAL so get ready //waggles eyebrows
> 
> Until next time!


	5. I Just Wanna Survive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I come, crawling out of my hole seven months later. I'm going to cry
> 
> Ugh, no excuses for this, really;; so many things happened, I lost interest in BMC for a long time and couldn't find the motivation to continue writing this, literally every time I'd sit down to write I just. I couldn't do it. Idk why. But I didn't want to force myself into writing it and end up having it be super shitty and rushed, so I took my time and only wrote when I felt really motivated :') Last night and today I finally pushed myself to finish this monster of a chapter. It's 10k words, so hopefully all of that was worth the wait!!
> 
> Also on top of that this chapter was. Really hard for me to write, because it has so SO many different emotions in it, forcing myself into that mindset was really tough...especially the ending, it was so difficult to write and sit there and feel all these things, I got really into it and got super emotional and I cried a lot;; it was hard. But hopefully everything I wrote seems genuine! I wanted to portray everything Michael and Jeremy were feeling correctly, and I hope those emotions come across clearly to you guys as well!
> 
> Idk if there's even any of you out there still waiting for this story to be finished, and if you are then? Thank you. Really, truly, thank you, it means a lot to me, even if I've been gone...it's taken a lot of determination to tackle this chapter, but I'm pretty satisfied with it, so I hope you like it too.
> 
> As usual, notes about the chapter are at the end! But let me give you this **_WARNING:_** This chapter contains mentions of _blood_ and other serious issues (I don't wanna spoil it all upfront ;w;) so please, please take caution. If you're squicky with lots of blood then I highly suggest you don't read this;; things get pretty bad towards the end so yeah
> 
> And, without further ado! Thanks for your amazing patience and support, I love you guys, this chapter is for you! I hope you enjoy! Roll the chappy~

So, karaoke is fun.  
  
Michael tells himself that this will be the last spontaneous event of the night, but knowing himself and Jeremy, it probably won't be.   
  
By the time they'd left the forest the sun had already set, the sky awash in dark colors and twinkling stars. They hadn't spoken much on the car ride here, instead opting to lose themselves in the music and the steady rumbling of the engine. Inwardly Michael was shouting at the events that had just occurred not too long before. Is Jeremy okay with this? Is _Michael_ okay with this? He still isn't sure. They'd been so close, standing nose to nose in the flower garden, petals falling around them like the rain. Everything had smelled so sweet and the air was so light with the emotions running rampant through them. It was simultaneously the most enchanting and also the most terrifying moment in Michael's life.   
  
Jeremy had been the one to spot the little karaoke place on the way back, the bright neon lights catching his attention. So now they're belting their hearts out to a mixture of 80s tunes, modern pop and classic rock. Not to mention a couple of anime songs thrown in for fun.   
  
They're inside their own little room, a specialty of the place. In here they don't have to worry about other customers bothering them for the mic or teasing them about their voices. Yes, it's just Michael and Jeremy, as always.   
  
The room itself is small, but there's more than enough space for the two of them. At the back is a TV sitting on the wall with the lyrics to whatever song they choose. The karaoke machine sits in the corner, cords all tangled up in a mess. There's a table and a couple of couches, where they'd smuggled in some outside snacks and drinks from the car. The lighting is dim, a soft pink color, and a colored disco ball twirls slowly on the ceiling.   
  
Their hour is nearly up, and Michael would opt to stay for another, but to be honest his throat still hurts from his attack this morning and his lungs are beginning to complain. Jeremy had told him that if he felt any sort of itch coming on to tell him right away. Michael is honestly too emotionally drained and somewhat cathartic to protest this time.   
  
" _Running to another day, I wanna break away and take the leap_ ," Jeremy sings into the microphone, doing a little swing of his hips. They're dueting an English cover of Drop Pop Candy, one of Michael's favorite Vocaloid songs.   
  
" _Doo doo doo doo_ ~"   
  
" _Oh, whoa-oh-oh-oh_!"   
  
" _As you're stuck on yesterday, no sun to rise would be okay with me_!" Michael chimes in, tapping his foot to the beat.   
  
The both of them come together, throwing arms around each other's shoulders, heads bobbing up and down.   
  
" _Doo doo doo doo_ ~"   
  
" _Every day, every day is okay_!"   
  
They sway in time with the music, laughing merrily as they prance about the room, their feet touching the floor along with the soundtrack. Michael is sweaty and exhausted, but at the same time he feels full of energy and so, so happy he's sure it shows plainly on his face.   
  
" _Taking it step by step, we'll always move ahead._ "   
  
They lock eyes, the sparks flying between them.   
  
" _Our love is growing red...need me more, need you more_!"   
  
They finally meet in the middle of the room, standing close enough to feel each other's breath.   
  
" _You fall down seven more times_ ," Michael continues softly, hoping he doesn't sound as choked up as he feels.   
  
" _I'll be there seven, eight, nine_ ," Jeremy continues, grinning.   
  
They smile and bump foreheads, looking like a pair of doofuses, but they hardly even care at all. The disco ball continues to spin above their heads, painting their cheeks in soft shades of pink and orange.   
  
" _As we keep trying, we'll find—you're always gonna be there too._ "   
  
Jeremy reaches over to fix Michael's glasses, which have slid down his nose. Michael giggles, a little bit too much.   
  
" _We're always singing the same tune...every day from now on_!"   
  
The rest of the song fades out and the machine clicks, telling them that their time is up. Jeremy breezily pulls away and dances over to the table where all of their food is, his movements graceful. Michael stands rooted to the spot, dazed.   
  
"Well, that was fun," Jeremy breathes after taking a swig of water. His hair is damp with sweat and his eyes are glittering bright blue in the darkness of the room.   
  
"So," he continues, wiping moisture off his brow. "Guess we'll just head home, huh? I can hear Apocalypse of the Damned calling."   
  
"Uh, yeah," Michael nods slowly, eyes drawn to the way Jeremy leans back in a stretch, all cat-like.   
  
_Fuck, you're gorgeous_ , he wants to say, but the words catch in his throat and he shoves them down.   
  
They gather up their snacks, Michael smiling since he can hear Jeremy humming Drop Pop Candy under his breath, and pack up. They head out and return the microphones to the front desk, and the keys to the room. They thank the employees and then they leave, stepping out into the cool night air. The sky is ablaze with stars and the pavement shines with speckles of light as they walk towards the car.   
  
"Hey," Jeremy says softly, calling for his attention. But Jeremy always has his attention, so Michael is already turned to face him before he can even open his mouth.   
  
"Are you ever going to tell me why you wanted to hang out today?"   
  
Michael grimaces, feeling guilt prickle at his spine. No, he can't tell him. Not yet.   
  
"I will," he says firmly, opening the car door. Jeremy slides in next to him, frowning.   
  
"I swear I will. I just...I can't yet."   
  
Jeremy looks hurt, his eyes flashing in pain before he nods curtly and moves to stare out the window.   
  
"Jer," Michael whines, tugging on his sleeve. "Come on, that's not fair. I'm going to tell you, I said I would."   
  
The brunette sighs deeply and tilts his head. "I know. It's just...we _never_ keep secrets from each other. Ever. We always tell each other everything."   
  
"And I'm going to tell you," Michael repeats. "You have no idea how—how hard it is to _not_ say anything, trust me."   
  
He receives a wrinkled nose and confused ocean eyes.   
  
"When?"   
  
"Tomorrow," Michael states. "I'll tell you tomorrow."   
  
Jeremy looks almost shocked that it's so soon. "Oh," he blinks. "Okay."   
  
Michael stares at him for a long moment before he shakes himself off and goes to start the car. The engine rumbles to life and Jeremy's hand slides over to give his a squeeze before withdrawing and allowing him to put his focus on the wheel.

* * *

They swing by 7 Eleven on their way back, being sure to stock up fully for the long night ahead of them. Michael uses this opportunity to buy himself another cherry slushy, fully intent on savoring the flavor since this is the last time he'll get to have it. Jeremy pokes fun at him, but ends up getting the blue raspberry flavor. Michael mutters a fond "hypocrite" under his breath as they go to pay for their food.  
  
It's around 8 PM by the time they get back to Michael's house. The lights are off and the driveway is empty, promising them a night without any interruptions. They thunder down the stairs like a herd of elephants, their arms full of bags and their laughter echoing throughout the silent house.   
  
Once they get all settled, Jeremy goes over their stash of snacks for the night as Michael sets up the game.   
  
"Okay, so we've got Mountain Dew. We have chips and salsa. We got popcorn. We got pretzels. We got chocolate bars. We got cookies, and we've got four packs of Shockers—"   
  
"Holy shit, those are gonna _destroy_ my tongue," Michael wheezes, grinning crookedly.   
  
Jeremy raises an eyebrow at him before his expression suddenly morphs into something almost sultry.   
  
"I could destroy your tongue," he says, smiling flirtatiously.   
  
Needless to say this isn't the first time today Michael has choked on his own spit.   
  
He dissolves into a series of uncomfortable coughs, and Jeremy immediately frowns before handing him the bottle of Mountain Dew.   
  
"That was a joke," Jeremy squeaks hurriedly, eyes wide.   
  
Michael nods and swallows, his throat burning again. Aw, fuck.   
  
"Yup. Yep. Got that. Uh-huh." He really hopes he sounds somewhat convincing, though the way his voice rises to a higher pitch says otherwise. God _dammit_ , Jeremy.   
  
The brunette gives him a worried smile. "You okay?"   
  
Michael recaps the Dew and nods hastily, not trusting himself to say the right thing at the moment. He fiddles with the game console for a few more seconds, trying to distract himself from the azure gaze piercing into him.   
  
The familiar chime of music echoes through his TV speakers and Michael crawls back over to the bean bags, silently handing Jeremy a controller. They snuggle into the cushions and dig in to their mini feast as the game loading screen comes on.   
  
"We're gonna beat it tonight," Michael says with determination, wiping potato chip crumbs off his face.   
  
Jeremy raises an eyebrow at him. "Oh, yeah?" He is licking chocolate off of his fingers, and Michael tries very very hard not to stare.   
  
"Y—up," his voice catches anyway and he scowls, leaning over to pop a couple of Shockers into his mouth. The combination of salty and sour flavors makes him purse his lips.   
  
"Well, we're already halfway through," Jeremy concedes. Their avatars materialize on the screen, and both of them lean forward, focused and eager.   
  
"We just have to beat—"   
  
"Level nine," Michael finishes in a low hiss, his back tense with anticipation. Level nine is reportedly one of the hardest levels in the game, and it's had them stumped for the past couple of weeks. But Michael is determined to see it through to the end this time, and finally taste victory.   
  
The word "Start" flashes at them and immediately they're surrounded by hoards of zombies, all fighting to get a taste of their flesh. The boys start yelling in a frenzy as they mash the buttons on their controllers, their bodies swerving this way and that in time to their character's movements onscreen.   
  
It takes a little while for them to find their groove, but once they do they take care of their opponents with ease. Their movements are synchronized perfectly, so used to it being a two-player deal that they have each other's backs whenever it's needed.   
  
Michael maneuvers his avatar, Ehm, onto the cafeteria table. Gunshots ring out as he shoots down hoards of zombie goons, laughing maniacally as their health bars drop to zero. Jeremy chuckles and fondly rolls his eyes from next to him, barely avoiding getting bitten as Ny0, his hero, takes down the enemy with a single slice of a kitchen knife he'd happened to pick up.   
  
Ny0 quickly joins his partner on the table, and Jeremy spots a new wave coming in through the doors out of the corner of his eye. He gives Michael a warning, who nods with trepidation. This is always the part that manages to best them—the zombies come in quick and fast, too much for them to keep up with.   
  
Inevitably they're surrounded in minutes, and Michael's health is already beginning to take a nosedive. Jeremy most likely hasn't noticed but Michael's been taking most of the hits for him; as the team's tank he can afford to lose some HP. Also because, even in a game, Michael will always look out for his best friend and protect him from the bad things.   
  
His thoughts drift once more against his will, unable to stop himself from thinking of what will happen in the morning. Is it cruel of him to protect Jeremy from the truth of his rapidly ending lifespan? Or is it better to tell him at the last minute? He honestly doesn't know.   
  
"Michael!"   
  
Jeremy's panicked voice snaps him out of the thoughts that plague his mind, but it's too late. Ehm's HP is already in the red zone and there is a zombie coming right for him.   
  
Michael yelps and hurriedly taps the X button to attack, but once again his reaction isn't quick enough and he's struck down. He watches as his avatar falls in slow motion, blood spraying out like a fountain to splatter across the white cafetorium walls.   
  
Jeremy sighs and throws his head back on the cushions, his controller falling onto the floor with a soft thud.   
  
"Damn, they make it so impossible...M?"   
  
The shorter teen's face is a shade lighter than normal, and his breathing is slight as he stares blankly at the screen. Game Over flashes in bright crimson letters, the camera settled on his dead avatar. He can't help the horrifying notions flying through his head. Will his death be that bloody and violent? He really hopes not.   
  
"Michael," Jeremy tries again, leaning over so that he's in Michael's field of vision.   
  
The boy jumps slightly when cobalt eyes meet his own, swimming with concern and compassion. Michael swallows and subtly backs away, feeling that if Jeremy comes any closer he'll lose any scrap of self-control he has and kiss him silly.   
  
_Not yet_ , he tells himself firmly. He has to wait until the perfect moment.   
  
Michael picks up his discarded controller and pumps himself up for round two. Jeremy seems to relax at this, moving back to settle into his own position, his long fingers tap tap tapping the buttons easily with years of practice. They don't have to say anything to understand what the other is trying to convey. Sometimes a conversation with no words means a thousand times more than one with, and that's one of the many things Michael treasures about his relationship with Jeremy. They know each other so well he's honestly shocked the other teen hasn't picked up on his five-year crush yet. Or...maybe he has?   
  
Eventually they manage to work out some sort of strategy for beating the level, and between enthusiastic shouts, enraged curses and stuffing their faces with snacks in between breaks, 10 PM hits. They'd finally managed to best the zombie hoard, and now they're winding down to the final part of the level.   
  
Michael holds his breath as Ny0 nimbly dodges and swerves out of harm's way. Jeremy controls him excellently, his eyes narrowed in concentration and his nose twitching cutely every now and then. They can see their escape route at the far end of the hallway, and as Michael hacks away at the remainder of the undead attackers he can almost taste that sweet freedom. One more step, and—   
  
The game erupts into triumphant trumpets as music blares out at them. _Level Clear_ blinks confidently on the screen, and the boys stare in shock for a few moments, speechless.   
  
Then they throw their arms up, whooping exuberantly. Sweat dampens their foreheads and cheeks and their faces are flushed, coming down from the adrenaline high, but they are beyond pleased.   
  
"I can't believe we finally beat it," Jeremy whispers, grinning like a dope as he stares at the glow in the dark stars on Michael's ceiling.   
  
"I know, right?" Michael responds giddily.   
  
The brunette laughs and tosses some popcorn at him. Michael retaliates by dumping chips in his friend's lap. They giggle like idiots, tangled up on the carpet together.   
  
Jeremy settles his head into the crook of Michael's neck and breathes out slowly, relaxing against him. The shorter boy hums and runs a hand through Jeremy's hair, marveling at the softness, the way it's lighter at the tips and darker at the roots, how his friend's nose is covered in tiny little freckles, how his eyelashes fan out across his cheeks like the tail of some great majestic bird. Jeremy's lips are pulled up into a contented smile, pink and like a seashell, and Michael's eyes follow the curve of his jaw down to his collarbone. He's trying to memorize every inch of Jeremy, wanting to preserve it in his memory for as long as he can.   
  
Now, he realizes with a soft jolt, now is a good time to tell him he's deeply, madly in love with him.   
  
Jeremy almost seems to be waiting for it, by the way he holds himself still and breathes quietly through his nose. His hand finds Michael's and strokes it calmly as the two of them gaze up at the sea of stars. It's not as brilliant as the sight at the planetarium, but it's still pretty with it's own charm.   
  
Michael inhales and closes his eyes, mentally preparing himself. Right. He can do this. Just say those three, simple words, and he can finally move on without anymore worries.   
  
His heart thuds painfully in his ears, his blood rushing as tingles shoot all the way to his fingertips. He opens his mouth, heart skipping a beat. Here goes.   
  
But before he can manage to even utter a syllable the words catch in his throat and his mouth goes dry, his lips moving soundlessly as he tries to speak. No matter what he does he can't seem to say them, even though it's as easy as breathing.   
  
Michael swallows and holds back frustrated tears, anger bubbling inside of him. Why can't he say it? He still can't bring himself to tell Jeremy how much he means to him, how much he loves him...   
  
That anger gives way to a chilling sense of despair, and Michael nearly drowns in it. Of course he can't say it, he's always been to cowardly, too weak, to admit his feelings. It doesn't matter how much time he has left, even if he has years he doubts he'll be able to confess. But he doesn't even have tomorrow, now. Tomorrow doesn't exist anymore, not for Michael Mell.   
  
"So," Jeremy murmurs, snapping him out of his downward spiral into utter hopelessness, "break time?" He's referring to the game, the screen still flashing at the two of them.   
  
Michael nods silently and inwardly mourns his lack of guts as Jeremy finally moves out of his embrace. He crawls on his knees across the carpet, tidying up the mess they've made.   
  
The bespectacled teen sighs before giving himself a good pinch on the arm. Now is not the time to be moping. The night still isn't over yet; maybe he can somehow summon the courage before dawn. A painful twinge pulls at his heart, but he pushes it away.   
  
"How 'bout a movie?" He suggests, trying to keep his voice light before walking over to open up the display case where he keeps all his DVDs.   
  
"Sure. What're you thinking?"   
  
"Uhh..." Michael scans over his collection, humming thoughtfully.   
  
"Ready Player One?"   
  
Jeremy's eyes light up. He's always been fond of that movie, despite the fact that it doesn't stick to the original novel plot as well as it should have.   
  
"Yeah!"   
  
Michael quickly pops the DVD out of its case and places the disc into its player before crawling back on his knees to join his friend on their favorite space themed cushions.   
  
“I’m still salty about Aech,” Jeremy mumbles, crossing his arms as Michael skips through all of the DVD previews to get to the main menu.   
  
“You say that every single time we watch this,” Michael snorts, rolling his eyes.   
  
“It’s not fair! Why spend the extra money to animate Aech as an orc when you can just hire an actor to play them and be accurate to the book?” The brunette huffs, crossing his arms. “This is injustice. All they had to do was portray my favorite character correctly and they couldn’t even do _that_.”   
  
The opening sequence begins to play as Michael nestles back into his cushion, snatching up a bag of mint cookies to munch on while he watches.   
  
“Why is Aech your favorite, anyway?”   
  
Jeremy looks over at him, seemingly shocked. “I thought it was obvious.”   
  
Wade’s home, the stacks, are revealed in high definition and gorgeous color, but Michael isn’t paying much attention anymore. “Huh? What do you mean?”   
  
The pale teen chuckles under his breath, hiding a grin.   
  
“It’s because Aech reminds me a lot of you, Micah.”   
  
For the second time that night Michael nearly chokes, but this time he has enough sense to turn his face away and cough before making a scene.   
  
Jeremy’s playing this game now, huh? Doesn’t he know pulling the special nickname card makes Michael weak in the knees?   
_  
_ _I’m so obvious oh my god_. Michael wants to curl up and forget all of the embarrassment he’s experienced this evening. It’s absolute torture!   
  
_Enough with the gay thoughts, Michael! Can’t you just act like a normal best friend?_ He whines internally.   
  
“Seriously?” He finally manages to say, a playful smile on his lips. Get it together, Mell.   
  
Jeremy’s smile is a beacon of light and—straight thoughts, Michael, heterosexual thoughts, _focus_ — “Yeah, I mean...both of you are really friendly and loyal. You always look out for your friends and know just what to do in bad situations. And you put up with all the shit your best friend throws at you,” he finishes, eyes twinkling teasingly.   
  
“Hmm...I guess we are pretty alike, then.”   
  
“That’s right,” Jeremy refocuses his attention on the screen, folding his arms behind his head. “Which is why I’m so bitter about them screwing this up. They made Arty and Parzival look good, why couldn’t they have given Aech a kickass avatar too? Not that I have anything against orcs. It’s just not _accurate_ ,” he hisses, pouting.   
  
“So in the book, Aech’s avatar is—”   
  
“A tall, well-built Caucasian male,” Jeremy recites. “At least, from what I remember.”   
  
“So they turned him into an orc. For no reason at all.”   
  
“Yup.”   
  
Michael watches as Wade finally locates the Tomb of Horrors. “That’s...kinda shitty.”   
  
“I know, right?! It’s so _frustrating_!” Jeremy runs his fingers through his hair, ruffling the umber locks. It’s thoroughly endearing.   
  
“No wonder you’re so irritated about it,” the dark-haired boy muses.   
  
Jeremy merely rubs his temples before finally settling down, resigned to watching the rest of the inaccurate movie with slight annoyance.   
  
“It’s fine, at least they didn’t screw up with Aech’s real identity...”   
  
They fall into comfortable silence, eyes half-lidded and lazy as they watch the movie with only a quarter of interest. They’ve both seen it tons of times already, so there’s not much to miss. The flashing lights and epic battle music flow around Michael like a soothing lullaby, and before he knows it he can feel his consciousness slipping. It’ll be fine if he takes a little nap, right? At least until the movie is over. Just a small rest, and then...   
  
He yawns, stretching out across the carpet, his snacks and game controller forgotten. The dim colors of his fairy lights and glow in the dark stars sway until they fade entirely, and Michael is floating amongst a sea of dreams.   
  
For a while it seems as if nothing will break out of the indiscernible swirl of color and light, but before he knows it he can hear a soft voice in the distance.   
  
Someone is singing.   
  
He can’t tell what they’re saying from this far away, but by the tone of their voice and the melody of the song, it sounds very, very sad. Hopelessness settles in his gut once again, and he cries out, reaching for the owner of the broken song.   
  
“Michael!”   
  
Michael startles awake, cookie crumbs flying everywhere as he abruptly sits up and nearly crashes heads with Jeremy.   
  
“Wh...”   
  
“You fell asleep,” Jeremy points out, and Michael peers around his shoulder to see that the credits are rolling. Oh, good. His friend had the sense to wake him up right as the movie was ending after all.   
  
“Mmsorry,” he mumbles, tiredly rubbing his eyes and releasing a loud yawn.   
  
Jeremy seems to relax and smiles at him, though something strange seems to rest beneath his gentle expression.   
  
“Were you having a bad dream?”   
  
The shorter teen blinks, recalling the fuzzy memory of a heartbroken tune. He draws his knees up to his chest, thoughtful.   
  
“I guess...”   
  
“You just looked...so sad.”   
  
Michael meets Jeremy’s eyes and sees his own weariness and sorrow reflected in them.   
  
With a jolt of realization, Michael remembers that the voice singing in his dream had been Jeremy’s.   
  
But why? Maybe it’s because of what’s going to happen soon...? There’s no other explanation.   
  
Michael’s heart twists painfully in his chest and he breaks eye contact, not wanting Jeremy to see the despair painted across his face like a mural. Things are going to get _bad_ tomorrow...he just hopes he can defuse Jeremy’s worries when it happens. Not that there’s much he can say about his own death without making the situation more depressing than it already is.   
  
Michael stands up, dusting off his jeans, and excuses himself to the bathroom for a few minutes. He needs to smoke. Really bad.   
  
It’s not easy to keep his mind off of the destiny that awaits him, but he figures if he’s a little high he can probably enjoy the evening more. They still have the rest of Apocalypse of the Damned to beat, after all. He wants to set a record and finish it before dawn. Along with doing some other things.   
  
Once he lights the joint, he inhales the sickly sweet taste into his mouth and feels it calm his nerves. Jeremy’s voice calls out to him, beckoning him back into his room.   
  
Michael pads out of the bathroom and shuts off the light, skipping over to grab the remote to his stereo. Might as well put on some tunes to help him wind down as well. He hits a few buttons and his favorite playlist begins to flow out of the speakers, and he settles back down on the floor in a heap. He can already feel himself loosening up and getting back into a good mood.   
  
" _Michael_!" Jeremy shouts his name so loud he actually jumps, the joint almost flying out of his hand.   
  
"Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me— _what_? What is it?" He yips, staring at his friend with eyes full of alarm.   
  
"I thought you said you stopped smoking," Jeremy hisses. Yikes, he looks angry. Anything having to do with Michael's health makes him worse than a girl on her period, seriously.   
  
Michael sighs and flops back onto the cushions, rolling his eyes. "Chill, dude. I only keep these rolls for emergencies. Or epic all-nighters like this one," he adds, wiggling his eyebrows. His attempt at being playful does not do anything to change Jeremy's ferocious expression.   
  
"Michael, this isn't a joke," Jeremy says severely. His eyes betray how concerned he actually is beneath the surface, and the other teen melts. It's just like Jeremy to make him feel ecstatic one minute and totally guilty the next.   
  
"That stuff is bad enough for regular people, but for you, it's ten times worse!"   
  
His voice cracks in the middle. Michael has an intense urge to snuggle him into oblivion, just to get him to stop worrying.   
  
"I know, I know," he mumbles, sighing. "But it's just this once. I promise I won't do it again without your permission."   
  
Jeremy pierces him with a glare that would send Rich and Jake running for the hills. "So you're saying you _have_ been doing it without my permission?"   
  
Michael can't help it; he snorts amusedly. "Of course not, dude. Like I said, only for when I really need it. Or for amazing nights with my bestest fwiend," he coos, tilting his head and fluttering his eyelashes.   
  
Jeremy crosses his arms and shakes his head, stewing in his anger. "You know this doesn't change the fact that I'm still pissed at you, right?"   
  
Michael frowns and sits up to face him properly.   
  
"Look, I'm sorry. Really. I won't do it if you don't want me to. I'll put it away..."   
  
Jeremy's eyes dart between him and the floor for several minutes. Eventually, he throws up his hands in defeat.   
  
"Fucking...I hate it when you give me that look. Fine. But you can only smoke one, and we're sharing it. Give that to me." And he snatches the joint out of Michael's grasp before lighting it and taking a deep hit, inhaling slowly. Michael is almost taken aback by his sudden boost of confidence, since Jeremy is usually very nervous when it comes to smoking weed. He almost feels proud.   
  
Smoke spirals out between Jeremy's parted lips, a truly mesmerizing sight. After a brief moment of hesitation he passes it back to Michael, who takes a lighter dose of the stuff into his mouth. He'll let Jeremy take most of it, since he seems so freaked out by Michael having it at all. Then maybe he'll be high enough that he'll stop complaining about it and be more chill.   
  
Michael puffs out a ring of smoke, reaching for his controller. His head feels light and no longer burdened by the dreadful thoughts he’s been having for the past couple days. Jeremy sighs from next to him as the loading screen comes back up. His eyes look a little dilated; it’s almost endearing.   
  
Before long they slip back into their normal routine as the game continues, passing the joint back and forth during breaks until it’s gone. The hours tick by as they continue to level up, laughing joyously and bursting into random bouts of giggles. By the time 5 AM rolls around, they’re both still high as kites, hyped up from the weed and from the adrenaline of charging through Apocalypse of the Damned with a straight winning streak.   
  
“Dude, we fuckin’ killed ‘em,” Michael grins dopily. The game credits are rolling and he honestly doesn’t even remember half of the gameplay, but they’ve done it, they’ve finally beaten the game—and just in time, too. Michael isn’t sure if he’d be satisfied moving on without having completed it.   
  
“I know, right?” Jeremy is giggling and he can’t stop giggling, which in turn makes Michael ease into a fit of giggles himself, and soon enough they’re laughing like idiots.   
  
They roll on the floor and wheeze until they’re out of breath, and when Michael looks over Jeremy is completely wrapped up in him and his arms are clinging to his waist.   
  
It’s still dark out, but he can see the beginnings of the sunrise. There’s a dark pink glow on the very edge of the horizon, and the realization that he’s running out of time sobers him up faster than anything else.   
  
“Jer?”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
Michael sits up, his expression serious. Jeremy seems to detect this right away and shifts to face him.   
  
“What’s wrong?”   
  
The shorter teen swallows, carding a hand through his hair. Their snacks are scattered across the carpet, most of their contents empty, and music still continues to flow softly out of the speakers. Apocalypse of the Damned has gone back to the starting screen, flashing on the New Game option. Jeremy is so, so pretty and Michael wants to tell him that, but a familiar itching in the back of his throat prevents him from doing so.   
  
Fear rises in his chest like a bubble that refuses to pop and for the first time since he found out about his time limit, he’s truly terrified to face death. He doesn’t want to do it alone, but there’s no way he’d ever drag Jeremy into it. This is something he has to face by himself—but if Jeremy can guide him there, be with him up until the very very end, that’s all he could ask for, really.   
  
Michael shifts forward and pulls his best friend, the love of his life, into his embrace. Jeremy doesn’t hesitate for a second, hugging him back with every ounce of affection Michael gives. He can’t stop shaking and he can feel tears clinging to his eyelashes but he feels so safe and warm, and he doesn’t want to leave. He hopes Jeremy won’t ever let him go.   
  
“Thanks for spending the day with me,” he manages to choke out, his voice trembling. Jeremy nuzzles his hair with his nose and Michael relaxes, inhaling the sweet scent of winter and fresh laundry.   
  
“Of course,” is Jeremy’s response. “I’d do anything for you, Micah.”   
  
Michael’s heart skips a beat and he bites down on his lip, not wanting to start bawling in front of the brunette for no apparent reason. He nods and squeezes Jeremy even tighter, fingers desperately clutching at his back. And even though Jeremy has no idea what he’s going through, can’t even fathom the thoughts racing through his head, he seems to understand anyway, and whispers reassurances until Michael becomes totally slack in his arms, like Jell-O.   
  
The sun is finally starting to rise, and it paints the room in a soft yellow glow. It’s almost time. Michael is drowsy and content, knowing that the memories they’ve made today won’t ever leave him. They’ll always, _always_ be apart of him, even after he dies.   
  
But still...there’s one more thing—   
  
“Jer,” the teen whispers, not daring to break the delicate silence more than he needs to. He receives a sleepy hum in response and feels affection glow in his chest like a firefly.   
  
“Hey,” he starts again, smiling in satisfaction when Jeremy gives him a squeeze and cuddles closer. “I gotta tell you something.”   
  
“Okay,” Jeremy answers, fingers playing with the hairs on the back of Michael’s neck. He shudders at the feeling, his spine arching into Jeremy’s touch. It’s addicting and he can’t get enough.   
  
Michael thinks that sharing his feelings this way might be better. They aren’t face to face, so he doesn’t feel as pressured, but they’re definitely closer than they were before, intertwined so intimately that he honestly can’t tell where he starts and Jeremy ends. They’re so absorbed in each other that he doesn’t even dare to pull away now, even though he’s sweating with nerves.   
  
“Jeremy, I—”   
  
Both of them jump and yell in shock when a loud ring echoes throughout the room. Jeremy curses quietly and shoots him an apologetic glance. Michael’s heart is beating rapidly and blood is rushing through his veins from the shock.   
  
God _dammit_! He’d been so close that time!   
  
“Sorry, it’s my dad,” Jeremy says meekly, holding up his ringing cellphone. “I’d better answer him, he’s probably wondering why I skipped school yesterday. I’ll be right back, okay?”   
  
Michael watches in despair as Jeremy gets up and pads out of the room, muttering into his phone. So much for his great confession.   
  
He groans and collapses back onto the beanbag, glaring at the stars on his ceiling. They’re mocking him, he’s sure. Why is fate so cruel?   
  
Suddenly his fingers twitch and his eyes widen, his throat beginning to itch. No, no, no. Not now. Not yet. He hasn’t said everything he wants to say!   
  
But his body has other plans, and soon enough he’s hunched over himself, gasping desperately for air. His throat closes up and his lungs seize. He chokes on a cough, pounding at his chest in a desperate attempt to get it to stop. He’s not ready yet, he’s not—   
  
Michael dissolves into a fit of coughs, and the room starts to spin. His eyes hurt, his ears hurt, his throat hurts, his everything hurts. He inhales, paling when he tastes a coppery thickness on the back of his tongue. Soon enough it’s coming out to cover his hands and his clothing, and it won’t stop, why won’t it stop, where is Jeremy, _he needs Jeremy_ —   
  
“Michael?” Oh thank god, there he is. Just on time, like a knight riding in on a majestic white—okay, that’s really not something he should be thinking about right now, he needs to focus and—   
  
“ _Michael_! Shit, shit— _fuck_!”   
  
He can't breathe. Blood clogs up his throat and his lungs, splattering across the carpet, and he chokes on it. It's so thick and tangy and it _burns_. He inhales wheezily, coughing, black spots dancing across his vision. The whole world is spinning and the pain threatens to pull him under, but the sound of Jeremy's sobs keep him grounded, so he holds on, refusing to give in yet.   
  
"Oh my god, oh my g-god," Jeremy cries, his hands shaking violently as he fishes his phone out of his pocket. "I-I have to call 911—"   
  
"N-no," Michael rasps, shaking his head. Both of them are covered in his own blood, and Jeremy still manages to look so beautiful with tears clinging to his eyelashes.   
  
"D-don't...it's no use. This is it for m-me, Jer..." Michael hacks again, feeling blood dribble down his chin. The carpet is soaked with it.   
  
"No, M, don't talk like that!" Jeremy begs, watching helplessly as his best friend chokes on his own blood right in front of him. He feels so weak, so lost and hopeless, so unsure of what to do.   
  
_What do I do?_   
  
"L-listen," Michael rasps, clinging onto the brunette's arms. "L...listen, J, I h-have to—" He retches again, tears of pain streaming down his cheeks.   
  
"Hello? 911? My friend—h-he's coughing up blood, it's everywhere, p-please you have to—" Jeremy rambles on, his expression one of pure panic, as he rattles off the address.   
  
"Jere...my," Michael whines, trying again. It's taking all he's got to stay conscious. His lungs feel like they're being consumed by fire.   
  
"Please, p-please, please hang in there Michael, the ambulance will be here soon!" Jeremy bawls, rocking him in his arms. "Just stay with me, M, it's gonna be okay, I promise, I swear. Fuck, _fuck_ —! I knew I shouldn't have let you smoke, let you walk out in the rain— _shit_! I'm so stupid, you're hurting again and it's m- _my_ fault—"   
  
"'S not," Michael cuts him off, grasping at his cheeks. His fingers leave trails of sticky blood on Jeremy's face. "I...it's alright, Jer...please d-don't blame yourself."   
  
"Michael," Jeremy whimpers, cradling him close. "Michael. Michael. D-don't leave me. Stay with me. Please, please..."   
  
Michael smiles sadly and brushes back sticky brown locks away from Jeremy's face, revealing gorgeous blue eyes that are full of tears.   
  
"This was...my secret," Michael admits quietly. "I'm...not gonna make it past today. Th-that's why I wanted to spend my last day with you. It's time for me to go..."   
  
" _No_!" Jeremy shouts, determination sparking from within him. "Shut up, I won't let you talk like th-that. You're gonna make it out of this just fine, Michael, just like you always do, like y-you always will."   
  
The shorter boy sighs quietly. They both know that's not true, but they'll believe in the notion anyway, if only to make time stretch on for a little longer.   
  
"Michael, look at me," Jeremy whispers harshly, stroking the side of his head with gentle caresses. "D-don't give up. Keep fighting. Stay awake. Stay here, with me."   
  
"J-Jer—"   
  
Jeremy leans forward and presses a trembling kiss to his forehead, his breath shaking. Michael stiffens under his touch. He doesn't really get time to appreciate the kiss before another attack strikes him, and he bolts upwards, heaving again.   
_  
_ _It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts,_ he thinks, fighting for breath. Jeremy sobs and tries to help him, rubbing his back comfortably, pressing kisses to his temple. At least he'll die with Jeremy, be able to close his eyes knowing that his best friend really was with him until the very end.   
  
Alarms blare from outside and Jeremy gasps in relief.   
  
"They're here, thank god—Michael. Michael? Hang in there, M. We're gonna get you all patched up," Jeremy says hurriedly, shifting him so that he's in the brunette's arms.   
  
Michael is totally out of it by the time Jeremy stands, cradling him close and hurriedly dashes up the stairs. Through the haze he dazedly wonders just when Jeremy became so strong, being able to swoop him up into his arms like his own personal knight in shining armor. Even though breathing is nearly impossible and it feels like needles are puncturing his lungs from all sides, he feels warm and protected. Jeremy's like a shield—always guarding him, saving him from danger. He closes his eyes and listens to the thrumming beat of Jeremy's heart. It's like a hummingbird, fluttering erratically.   
  
Through the flashing lights and the blaring sound of the ambulance, Jeremy’s presence is like an anchor to him, keeping him grounded amongst the uproar. He hears frustrated shouting and arms trying to pull him away but he shakes his head and clings to his best friend even harder. Jeremy snaps irritably at the people surrounding the two of them, and before Michael can even process what’s going on he’s in the vehicle, strapped up to medical machinery with people buzzing around him.   
  
His eyes frantically search for Jeremy, and he relaxes when he feels a hand tightly grasping his own. It’s the only thing that’s keeping him tied to consciousness, and blue eyes stare through the gloom to try and reassure him.   
  
The voices are too loud, the clinking of surgical tools like needles being shoved into his skull, and the lights nearly blind him—not to mention the searing pain in his chest that won’t cease, but it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s _fine_ —   
  
It’s _not_ fine, because Jeremy’s clearly crying even though Michael can’t hear him properly over the pounding of his own heart, and blood keeps spattering across his hoodie every time he gives a shaky exhale. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe and he’s going to drown in his own blood, choked to death by the thickness of it.   
  
“Michael,” a voice cries, and his mind fuzzily recalls the despairing melody of his dream. What were the words that were sung to him...? He can’t remember, and it makes his chest hurt even more.   
  
When he refocuses again the ceiling is white and he’s being raced down the hall on a stretcher, watching the tiles fly past. Jeremy keeps pace with him, not daring to let go of his hand. Michael parts his lips to speak but finds that he still can’t, rasping helplessly on the overflowing blood in his mouth. Jeremy heaves out a sob and Michael wants nothing but to scoop him up and cradle him until all of his worries go away.   
  
When they finally come to a halt at the end of the hall, the doctors speak in hushed voices to his best friend, who looks utterly horrified and stricken. Michael can’t even make out the words, but he knows that whatever they’re telling him isn’t good—not that he’s surprised, this is meant to be, it was written by fate on those crisply printed tickets, after all.   
  
Jeremy is trying to tell him something, but the ringing in his ears won’t stop and the pain is threatening to drag him under permanently. Michael reaches out for him, feeling tears streaming down his own face, and the look he gets in return is the most heartbreaking thing he’s ever witnessed in his entire seventeen years of life.   
  
He’s whisked out of sight, and once he realizes that his lifeline is gone, everything fades to black. 

* * *

“Come on, kid. You can’t give up now.”  
  
Michael can’t tell up from down, or left from right—everything is dark, and he can’t feel a thing.   
  
“You still haven’t said it yet, right?”   
  
That voice...he knows that voice. It’s a voice that greets him everyday with a wry smile and a pitying gaze.   
  
“You still have a little time left. You should make the best of it.”   
  
The song...it’s coming back to him now. Jeremy’s voice echoes in his ears, and he wants to cry out. It sounds so broken and sad.   
  
“ _How am I supposed to keep moving forward? When I’m drowning in my own sorrow..._ ”   
  
“He’s still waiting for you, kid. You gotta tell him before it’s too late.”   
  
“ _There’s a light that you’re moving toward. And I can’t follow_ —”   
  
“The price for those tickets is your “happiness”, you know. Are you really going to let that stand?”   
  
“ _You’re gone, you’re gone, you’re gone, you’re gone, you’re gone...so long, so long, so long, so long, so lo_ —”   
  
_No. Not yet._   
  
Michael opens his eyes. 

* * *

Jeremy hasn’t ever really asked for much in life.  
  
He wants things, yes, but he’s not the type of person to take them, especially if it means they’ll be stolen from somebody else. He forges his own path to happiness and tries not to be greedy. He’s satisfied with what he has, and he wouldn’t change any of that for the world.   
  
But now he’s begging.   
  
Jeremy isn’t really Jeremy, at least not without Michael Mell. Michael is his best friend, his other half, the person he cherishes most in the entire universe. Michael has been his rock, his solid cornerstone, a person he can always lean on and ask for help without feeling ashamed. He’s known Michael since practically diapers, and they’ve been through thick and thin together.   
  
He vividly recalls times spent sitting in this very room in the early hours of the morning, when the sun is just starting to peek up over the horizon and the sky is painted pink. There’s a somber feeling that settles over the place like a thick blanket, oppressing and dark. His heart feels like a bird trapped in a cage, trying desperately to escape. His stomach turns and his throat burns as he tries to hold back tears.   
  
It’s like this every time. Every time Michael collapses and has to be rushed to the emergency room, face washed out and gaunt. Jeremy sits in the waiting room with no choice but to twiddle his thumbs and chew on his lip until it splits. What else can he do? In video games he’s an unconquerable god, but in real life he’s nothing more than a high school geek without any powers to speak of. He can’t do anything to save Michael, even though he’d trade his life if he could. It frustrates him how powerless he is to stop the illness from eating away at his best friend’s body.   
  
Even so, Michael always bounces right back and greets him with a cheesy grin when he goes in to see him. It always smells too much of anesthetic, but Michael’s smile washes away all of the bad feelings, even though he’s sitting in a hospital bed and looks worse for wear. Jeremy hates seeing him that way, even though it is reassuring—because he knows Michael’s just trying to be strong for him, although it hurts and it’s terrifying. Jeremy almost can’t believe how truly strong he really is. It’s this constant battle, and Michael always emerges victorious, _always_.   
  
Except for today.   
  
Jeremy has never, _ever_ seen Michael’s illness get that bad before. He knows it’s progressed a lot more in the recent months, but Michael has kept a tight lid on it, shrugging it off as if it were nothing. So, Jeremy’s never really known the true extent of how deep it goes—but this morning he found out, watching in horror as his friend’s blood stained the carpet crimson and painted him in a sticky mass of red. For the first time, Jeremy saw true fear in Michael’s eyes—but also a strange sort of acceptance, as if he knew this was coming. Even his words, he sounded so sure that this would be the end...   
  
Jeremy shakes his head and hugs his knees closer to his chest, refusing to entertain those morbid thoughts. How could Michael think that way? Sure, it’s a lot worse than it usually is, but he’ll be fine, he’ll be fine, he _has_ to be fine...   
  
He doesn’t know what he’ll do without Michael. If the world comes to a point where Michael Mell no longer exists, Jeremy wants no part of it. He doesn’t want to wake up and go to school and not see his other half there waiting for him. He doesn’t want to lose the corny jokes and the goofy faces and the bright smiles. He doesn’t want to lose the taste of Shockers and cherry slushies and cafe french toast. He doesn’t want to lose the sight of the universe on the ceiling and the apple tree at sunset and the spinning disco lights in a dark karaoke room. If Michael leaves this world, Jeremy isn’t sure if he’ll have the strength to even move at all...   
  
So that’s why, for the first time in his life, he resorts to begging.   
  
He doesn’t care what he has to give up to ensure Michael keeps living—he’ll give up his own life if he has to, though that might be pushing things a bit too far. He’ll withdraw every single selfish thought he’s ever had and keep them locked up tight, and never consider breaking the rules ever again. He’ll give up Christine. He’ll give up even the mere idea of being popular and accepted. He’ll ditch his good grades and his dreams for college, he’ll be kinder to his father, he’ll be the most obedient person in the _world_ if it means keeping Michael safe. He just wants to have this. He just wants to keep seeing that silly smile and those deep brown eyes filled with mirth.   
  
_Just let him be okay. Please, God, let him be okay._   
  
The door opens and Jeremy looks up, feeling any breath he had escape him in a rush at the bloodstains on the doctor’s clothes and the grim expression on his face.   
_  
No...please, no... _   
  
The doctor locks eyes with him and they end up in a staredown for several moments. Jeremy’s heart is pounding so hard he’s sure everyone else in the room can hear it, and his entire body is burning with panic.   
  
“Were his parents informed?” The doctor asks. He sounds tired, and Jeremy can feel the exhaustion rolling off of him. As someone who pulled an all-nighter, he can kind of relate.   
  
“Th—they’re on a business trip.” Jeremy isn’t even sure how he manages to find his voice, for it comes out as a soft squeak, his voice cracking. His face feels hot and sticky from crying. He swallows. “I couldn’t reach them.”   
  
The doctor nods sadly. “I see. Well then, could you come with me?”   
  
Jeremy shakily rises to his feet and nods, not sure if he can hold himself up for long. Michael needs him. He needs to go to him, to see his face, to make sure he’s okay—   
  
When Jeremy enters the room the smell of blood hits him like a freight train. Without even looking at Michael he knows it’s bad, and he bites down on his lip in a pathetic attempt to stop himself from bursting into tears again. But as soon as he lays eyes on his friend, who is paler than he’s ever seen him, the dam breaks and he’s choking back a sob.   
  
“Micah,” he chokes, hurrying over to sit down beside him and grab his hand.   
  
Eyes flutter open and Michael turns to him, giving him a lopsided grin. His breathing is slight and his eyes look distant, as if he’s seeing something completely beyond the room.   
  
“Hey, Miah,” Michael rasps.   
  
The heartbeat monitor beeps slowly, too slowly. Jeremy takes a shuddering breath and forces himself to relax. No matter what happens from here, he has to be strong. Michael isn’t able to, not right now.   
  
“I’m glad...you’re here. I need to tell you something...” Michael whispers, sighing heavily.   
  
“What is it? You know you can tell me anything,” Jeremy encourages, brushing his thumbs gently over the back of his friend’s hand.   
  
Michael nods, and tears begin to gather at the corners of his eyes. “I know. And I’ve...been selfish. I haven’t...told you everything. But I need to say...say it now...” His breath is getting weaker and he wheezes, gasping for breath.   
  
“No no no, don’t—don’t push yourself Michael, it’s okay, please just rest,” Jeremy pleads, reaching up to brush back Michael’s sweaty bangs from his forehead.   
  
“ _Listen_ ,” Michael plows ahead stubbornly. “I don’t...have much time left. But I...” Tears start to slide down his face and before Jeremy can blink, they’re both crying and holding onto each other like their lives depend on it. In Michael’s case, it does.   
  
“I want to hear you say “good morning”...many more times,” Michael sobs, his entire body trembling. “Even if you get...annoyed with me...I-I want to hold your hand and always be by your s-side...”   
  
Jeremy can hardly see him through the veil of tears, the strength of his crying shaking him to his core. This can’t be the end. It can’t be.   
  
_Somebody, make it stop._   
  
“I—I want that too,” Jeremy can’t prevent himself from hiccuping, his voice choked with emotion. “P-please, Michael, you can’t give up yet, you have so much to l-live for—”   
  
“Shut up and let me finish, doofus,” Michael says quietly, and Jeremy can’t even find it in himself to laugh at the teasing insult.   
_  
Stop, stop. _   
  
“Jeremy,” Michael murmurs. “Jeremy. Jeremy. Jer. J-Jeremy.”   
  
“I’m right here, Micah,” Jeremy breathes.   
  
Michael closes his eyes. “Mmm. Yeah. Y-you’re always here...for me. Forever.”   
  
“Forever.” Jeremy’s voice breaks and he weeps openly, squeezing his friend’s hand tightly.   
  
“Jeremy.” It’s whispered so softly that he can barely hear. The heart monitor begins to beep rapidly.   
_  
Stop! _   
  
“I’ve loved you...all this time.”   
  
The brunette lets out a wail, and buries his head into Michael’s chest.   
  
“Michael,” he cries. “Micah. Don’t leave me! _Don’t leave me_ —”   
  
Everything falls silent.   
  
“Michael?”

* * *

The world is gray.  
  
Everything has lost meaning. It’s all become dull and lifeless, and nothing can penetrate the wall of complete and utter emptiness he’s trapped himself inside.   
  
People try to speak to him, but their words go in one ear and out the other—it’s pointless. Sitting here is pointless. _Living_ is pointless.   
  
The only sound he can hear is the steady long beep that never seems to go away. It rings faintly in his ears, even though the machine was turned off long ago. It’s driving him insane. He doesn’t want to hear it anymore, he doesn’t want any part of it.   
  
Who is he, again? Why is he in this place? What is his purpose?   
  
He used to have a purpose. He used to have somebody there to push him forward and help him excel, somebody that made him smile and made his heart flutter, somebody that took his hand and lead him into countless adventures that made the world so much brighter.   
  
But that person is gone now.   
_  
_ _Michael’s gone,_ a voice in his head tells him. _He’s gone to a place that you can’t reach. He’s not coming back._   
  
No, that can’t be. Michael was always supposed to be with him. They were supposed to grow up and grow old, and live out the rest of their lives together until they couldn’t tell who was who. There’s a whole book full of memories that’s supposed to be filled, with labels like “graduation” and “college” and many, many more.   
  
But now those will remain empty. Or, rather, they won’t be complete. Ever.   
_  
No more. No more. No more, please... _   
  
Jeremy closes his eyes and puts his hands over his ears. His heart, which was once so open and full of love, has shattered, and he can’t let anybody else in anymore. He’s going to cut himself off from the world and live in complete solitude, where nothing hurts and Michael is still there.   
_  
Michael... _   
  
There’s a voice calling out to him. It’s different from the others, more familiar. Somebody grabs his shoulders and shakes him gently. Who’s trying to drag him out of his cocoon? He doesn’t want to leave, it’s safe and warm in here, and it’s numb. He doesn’t want to feel things, he doesn’t want to face the agony. Not yet. He’s not strong enough, he’ll never be strong enough—   
  
“Jeremy. Son. Please.”   
  
Jeremy opens his eyes. The world clears and his father is standing over him, face wet with tears, and eyebrows drawn up in concern.   
  
Reality comes crashing down like a brick wall, and it hits him way too hard and way too fast. Before he can even process what’s going on he’s sobbing so hard he can’t breathe, and his father is cradling him in his arms.   
  
“M-M-Michael,” Jeremy chokes, heaving for breath. “M-M-Mich—he’s g-gone, he’s _gone_ , D-D-Dad—”    
  
“I know,” his father says, stroking his hair. “I know. I’m sorry, Jeremy. I’m so sorry.”   
  
“No,” Jeremy cries, shaking his head. “No, n-no, n- _nooo_ , he _can’t_ —he can’t be g- _gone_ , p-please— _Michael_ —”   
  
His dad holds him for what seems like forever. The minutes tick by and Jeremy cries and sobs until he has nothing left, no more tears to shed, no more energy to spend. When he’s finished he goes completely silent, eyes empty and face lifeless. He doesn’t have anything left of him, it’s all gone, anything that was once Jeremy Heere has disappeared along with the person he loves the most.   
  
“Jeremy,” his father is speaking softly, rubbing his back in soothing circles. “Michael...he left you something. It was in his pocket. You should take it.”   
  
He holds out a piece of paper, and when the words finally register in Jeremy’s head, he focuses back on reality again.   
  
He silently takes the strange slip, eyes wandering over it.   
  
It looks like a ticket, with a soft pattern etched on the side and the number "24" written in large block letters across the center. It's black and white, a simple, clean design. Jeremy honestly has no idea what this is or why Michael even had it, but he knows that it's important. Michael hadn't tried to give it to him or tell him about it before, so clearly it means something, something Michael couldn't say outright.   
  
“Do you know what it is?” His father asks, and Jeremy wordlessly shakes his head.   
  
The bald man bums thoughtfully and scratches his beard. Silence hangs in the air between them again, and Jeremy looks hopelessly lost and confused as his eyes dart over the ticket in his hand.   
  
Mr. Heere rises to his feet and gently nudges his son up, putting a steady hand on his shoulder. They’ve got a long, difficult road ahead of them—and he knows it’ll be a very long time before he sees Jeremy smile again. Even so, he’ll do his best for the only and most important family he has left, who now has nobody else to rely on.   
  
“Let’s go home, son.”   
  
Jeremy doesn’t even have the strength to protest, letting his father guide him out of the building, heart aching as he travels farther and farther away from Michael’s final resting place. 

* * *

Michael stands at death's door.  
  
This time there is no desk clerk to greet him or the sight of tickets scattered across the floor of the vast white space. Instead it is empty, silent, and endless. He reaches into his pocket to find that the ticket he had has disappeared.   
  
Michael turns, eyes wide, picking up on something far away. Something important is about to happen.   
  
"Jeremy?"

* * *

Jeremy swings open his bedroom door, planning to go to sleep and never wake up again. Or maybe this is all some horrible nightmare and Michael's still here, perhaps rubbing soothing patterns on his skin as he tries to rise him from dreams. He'd give anything to wake up from this absolute hell.  
  
When he steps inside his room he's immediately swamped with a sea of paper.   
  
His eyes widen to the size of dinner plates as he sees that his room is buried in tiny white slips. They pile up and crowd his desk, sticking out of the drawers of his dresser and invading his mattress. They're _everywhere_ —and he has no idea how they got here or why.   
  
Jeremy bends down to pick one up at his feet and he inhales sharply when he recognizes the pattern. Just to make sure he carefully withdraws Michael's last gift to him from his pocket, examining the two tickets together.   
  
Yes, they're exactly alike—the same size with that black and white lettering, and the number "24" printed in the center.   
  
Suddenly everything seems to fall into place, and he blanches at the implication.   
  
These tickets...could they possibly—?   
  
Jeremy dives into the pile and gathers up as many as he can in his arms, then he crouches down on the floor and squeezes his eyes shut tight.   
  
The last thing on his mind before he slides into unconsciousness is Michael's tearful smile as he bid his last farewell.   
  
_I'm coming for you, Michael._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3ccccccc Please don't kill me okay? Okay? I promise it's gonna be alright
> 
> But wow!! What a doozy of a chapter amirite? And I left it on a cliffhanger, too~ I'm so mean I'm sorry lol  
> Anyway, note time!!
> 
> *I love Vocaloid and I love Vocaloid covers so you guys should definitely check out Juby and Kuraiinu's cover of Drop Pop Candy, which Mike and Jer sang to at the beginning of this chapter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UwdiUeH1RdA It's just such a cute song and it fits them SO well. I had to have them duet to it together :')
> 
> *Ny0 and Ehm are Michael and Jeremy's character avatars from my BMC ask blog, ask-readyplayergaymers!! You should totally check it out! Ofc I had to throw in that reference somewhere lol. Also, going off of that, I also had to include the upcoming Ready Player One movie! I have a lot of opinions about it, but I can't wait to see it in theaters even if it's going to be bad haha;; I'm really salty about Aech too, they shouldn't have made him an orc, they should've made him a super cool avatar like Parzival and Art3mis'........siiiiiigh
> 
> *I've never smoked weed before or have even remotely touched/seen it and I don't plan to lol so all that was from research! Idk if it was accurate but as somebody who has no experience with drugs I tried my best ndasbjngfsjgh
> 
> *I have no idea if I depicted Michael's...death correctly. Seeing as his illness is something I kinda made up and never specified, I guess it doesn't really matter if it was accurate or not lol
> 
> *Apparently I have no self-control so I wrote a song for Jeremy too lmao;; Michael's is happy but he's dying, Jeremy's is sad but he's living. Isn't that ironic?
> 
> *Michael's last few words to Jeremy were pulled directly from the 24-Hour Life Tickets song translation >:3c I had to reference it directly somehow, it inspired this entire story so!!
> 
> The next chapter will be the last one!! Depending on my schedule it should be up within a couple weeks (hopefully...HOPEFULLY). Soon I'll finally have to say goodbye to Life Tickets...aaaah!! My heart aches.......
> 
> Until next time, my dears! Adieu! (Please spare me. I promise there's a happy ending in store)


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